From Friday, April 24th, 2026—
In a culmination of the long winter’s wait, I’m getting back at it today. The camp in the woods awaits an influx of crusty humans, none under sixty, some over seventy. Most of the participants are sage members of the Breakfast for Schmucks crowd.
The outlier is the boy, probably considered to be in his prime, who will also join us in some physical endeavors, finishing up chores that were put on hold once Maine’s temperatures rose only into the single digits on most days.
Restructuring an internal wall, running some wire, and boxes for dueling ceiling fans, and replacing the Starlink dish on the roof after a couple of Maine winters revealed that it was a quitter. You see, it handed in its resignation after failing to withstand brisk, frequent winds from the northeast that make the internal microchips wish they’d been installed in a Tesla driven in more temperate climates, like Sarasota or Phoenix.
The dish-derived Interweb was installed for the sole purpose of allowing the Significant One to come to Maine a little more in summer, whilst keeping her employed so that we can afford to purchase two-by-fours. She needs to be connected to fulfill her employer’s needs. She avoids revealing the views from the porch to Microsoft TEAMS meeting participants, simply because it could entice more people from away to visit our enclave. Again, a good reason to keep an outhouse active in your life, because it really limits the number of folks willing to show up for the weekend.
We must also repair the boat lift, assess whether installing the waterline in the lake is prudent, and eradicate any vermin that have now made the bunkhouse their home sweet home.
After two nights of well-below-freezing temperatures this past week, then assessing the damage to the fittings on the garden hose at the ranch on the knoll, leaving a water pump and line exposed to a surprise freeze can be expensive. I might wait another week for that chore.
I’ve always called this trip a chance to blow off the stink of winter, and as you get older, and maybe wiser, it’s smart to take some talent with you. Moral support, it is not. Barbs and sarcastic jokery will be the dish of the day. But it’s good to be ridiculed by peers, for it keeps you humble and honest about your own skills and character.
The good news is that none of them has any inclination to stay more than six or seven hours. The outhouse is still the primary bathroom unit, and showering is out of the question. Cold plunges are available to anyone with the fortitude to jump into the lake.
It is spring, and for that I’m thankful. Oh, for friends and kin, too, of course.
From the Jagged Edge of America, I remain,
TC
As always, thank you for reading my stuff. To the subscribers on Facebook, and the BuyMeACoffee monthly and time-to-time supporters, I thank you from the bottom of my heart. It keeps our train running. tc