Travel Tuesdays: The Family Cabin

At the right time of year, I can step across from dry rock to dry rock. Other times the rocks are overflowing with water and slippery moss covering the rocks prevents safe passage. From this series of  little water falls comes the lullaby of the river.

 

Considering we go to the family cabin at least once a year and usually twice, I'm surprised I haven't written about it on my blog, yet! Maybe it's because there's a part of me that wants to keep this treasure to myself. This is what I consider to be my main inheritance from my parents. I got some 'stuff' from them, mementos and more books than I needed, but this is different. This is family history. Experiences. Roots. Tangible.

Looking up at the cabin and deck from the river.

 

My predominant memory of the cabin from childhood is being so car sick by the time we got there that I could hardly stand on my shaky legs, stumbling out of the car to reorient myself in the grassy field. There are some vague memories of sleeping in the upstairs loft with my sisters and three girl cousins. Now I wonder where my brother slept? He must have felt outnumbered. 

In the background, there is always the sound of the river dancing over the rocks, singing a song with a timbre that changes from season to season with the volume of water. How I loved to play in the water, carefully navigating the rocks, slippery with moss, hunting for crawdads, watching 'skitter bugs' skate across the surface, swimming, splashing and being a kid.

I remember Grandpa sitting in the old Morris chair, thus in my mind dubbed the Grandpa Chair. Several years ago when buying new furniture, the warmth of that memory influenced the choice of recliner. Now that we've sold the house and moved into the RV, one of them is at the cabin, sitting next to the Morris chair. Nearly a century apart in age, but similar in style and purpose.

Blessed by the new and the old. .

My project this year was to made new cushions.

It was very satisfying to have the skills and equipment to make new cushions for the Morris chair making it more comfortable. The sagging, lumpy cushions caused us to avoid it. Armed with sewing machine, fabric and foam, I set to work and finished it my first day there. The rest of our stay, we enjoyed having two comfortable chairs from which to enjoy a movie or two, or reading.

This year, we went in July for ten days, instead of the usual June and September trips. A whole day is taken up traveling the 335 miles in each direction, which gave us eight full days there. We worked on projects, read books, took walks and visited people. So often we only have three to five days, which is barely time to relax and get a small project done. This felt almost decadent and we were pleased with how much we accomplished. No matter how long we are there, it never seems to be enough time. I suppose that's how it is with something one enjoys. 

The June trip is scheduled to coincide with the Annual Shareholders Meeting, the small group of us who own the property the cabins sit on. The last two years we have met via Zoom. We look forward to meeting in person next year. There are six cabins there by the river, most of which have been passed down the families for generations. The Corporation owning the property was incorporated in 1913. Many things have changed since then, but the sense of history and continuity remain, will all of us committed to preserving the heritage we have. Our cabin was built by my Grandfather in 1946, with the others built some before and some after. Pictures of the large canvas tent used prior to the cabin were fun to see. We would call this Glamping, now, but I'm sure Grandma would have had some other description.

With a pleasing mix of vintage, antique and modern, the cabin exudes warmth and welcome.

The kitchen is fun to work in and a nice change from the RV. Surrounded by antiques, vintage appliances and Grandma's old china, I revel in the connectedness I feel with those who have used this kitchen before me. Plus it's fun to see what I can do with what I have available.

Memories of my Grandmother and other family members wrap around me in this vintage kitchen.

The mahogany plywood shipped as crates from the Philippines 70 years ago lines the walls and ceiling. In one panel, my great aunt's touches of paint bring to life a water scene she envisioned in the grain of the wood. Much of the charm of the cabin stems from this wood.

Since inheriting my share of the cabin in 2003, we have spent many of our September anniversaries there. Some years we were involved in projects that took all of our energy and time. Like the year we built a retaining wall under the cabin to hold back the river's high water encroachment. Stretched to the limits of our strength, endurance, and patience. Or the one spent scraping up the old tiles to prepare for the new flooring. We were too focused, and too tired, to drive a half hour into town for a celebratory meal. With an easy meal and a "Happy Anniversary" we dragged ourselves off to be overcome by the sleep of the exhausted.

43rd Anniversary at the cabin last Fall. The smokey haze from wildfires, miles away on either side, turning the greens an odd shade and obscuring the sun. 

 

September is a great time to be there. Usually the weather is still nice, sometimes even hot. It seldom rains, but the nights start to cool. The large wood stove is rarely needed by us. I soon found out that it can hold the heat all too well and only two chunks are needed to remove the morning chill. Anything more than that lasts for hours, well into the warmth of the day when doors are thrown open and fans turned on. 

My grandparents built it, passed it on the my dad and my aunt, and now it's owned by my oldest cousin and her heir, my sister, my niece and myself. We share in the upkeep and expenses as well as the privilege of being there with the river song lulling us into greater well-being. There is always work to be done, but with such a setting, the effort is well repaid. And break times are unsurpassed. I've already scheduled next year's trips on the family calendar.

Do you have a heritage you treasure? Family memories, stories or items passed down? I'd like to hear about them.