Field Hands

After a particularly hard day, my mother used to say that she had “worked like a field hand.”  That woman knew from field hands; she was sent out to the fields as soon as she could walk.  Last weekend, some campers worked like field hands in the meadow to stabilize and finish the new platform. I didn't work all that hard; my job was more along the lines of cheer leading.  Our pals with the real skills shimmed the new platform (so it would stop shimmying), added railings and built a new set of steps leading down to the kitchen. It’s beautiful, and there’s no danger of the whole damn thing collapsing under our weight, which was a distinct possibility with the last platform.

My deep and abiding gratitude goes out to the folks who worked like field hands all weekend:

Louise (who showed up first, of course)

Greg Hartley

Pappy and Carol Bonney

Laney

Lowell

Ezra, Cliff, Carolyn, Sue and Juniper, a.k.a the Severin Clan

Joe

Jesse

Cathy

Peter, Sasha and little Daniel, my new sweetheart

In all, we got a hell of a lot done and I'm feeling much more prepared than usual. What a gift! Thank you! 

 spent much of the weekend cleaning and organizing the kitchen and am compliing a list of things we need and things we don’t need.   We have plenty of the following and do NOT need:

Ziploc plastic bags

Paper plates

Plastic cutlery

Folding camp chairs.  (we never buy them, but have collected several over the years.)

I’ll post a list of requests soon. The menu is unchanged: on Friday, grilled salmon and Yukon gold potatoes. It would be great if someone grilled a bunch of veggies or made a big salad.  Saturday is all about barbecued meat. Sequoia and I will provide some kind of starch.  It occurs to me that, since Ruthe and Matt will not be in attendance this year, no-one is standing by to bake a Dutch Oven treat. Guess I better learn how to bake…