Since I last wrote a column about my husband’s cabin, he has made additions.
The cabin is like Topsy; it just grows. He makes an addition each year. They are always a surprise. He is secretive about his innovations.
First, he wanted me to tell you that one wall of his cabin was made from the large doors that once were at the back of Mayfield Hardware, when it was on the square.
Beside the cabin, he has what I guess you could call a cook shed. In it is the old rotisserie chicken cooker that once graced Kitchens’ Market.
It also has a refrigerator, a fish cooker and one or two grills. (None of them is in pristine condition.)
There is a cement pad that slopes down to lake. He had leftover cement and no time to grade anything level.
Waste not, want not.
On that concrete pad are two plastic picnic tables, the kind that have attached benches on each side. It is level enough for you to sit at the benches and eat.
This year’s addition was a roof over the cement pad. Someone gave him some pieces of used tin roofing that had some holes.
He filled the holes with clear cement (glue? something?) and used the roofing to cover the picnic tables.
He then decorated with more clear strings of lights. Now we can eat in comfort and security when it rains (unless it is really windy).
The roof extends over the hot tub, again something someone gave my husband.
Hanging from the roof over the hot tub there is now a chandelier. I don’t really know if it works, but I bet it does.
I think my husband is sort of like folk artist Howard Finster, except he doesn’t paint his finds; he just displays them.
Do you think people donated stuff to Finster, or did he just go and collect junk from what people discarded on the streets?
Last weekend, my husband invited some friends, two couples, down to the cabin for a cookout. They had never been before.
Once the invitations were accepted, we were forced into a flurry of activity.
He had to have the lawn mowed and trimmed up with the weed eater.
My problem was the inside of the cabin. I had not cleaned since last spring. I give it one good try once a year.
The first thing is cleaning out the refrigerator. I find things that have been expired for several years. My husband is pained when I throw them out. But I do.
Then I clean the top of the stove and the microwave. I refuse to look at the oven. There were dishes to wash and places to find where those dishes could reside besides the dish drain.
Then I disinfected all the surfaces in the kitchen (not the outdoor kitchen) and the bathroom.
There were lots of leaves and spider webs to slurp up with the vacuum. Halfway through, I had to empty the vacuum cleaner and clean its filter before I could continue.
Then I dusted. Pollen was everywhere and everything outside was yellow.
Why is it that when I have something to do, it is my chore, but when my husband has something to do, it is our chore?
I don’t know if it was the dust or the pollen, but Sunday I was sneezing and coughing.
Anyway, to quote The Covington News of the past, a good time was had by all. My husband’s cooking was appreciated and eaten.
His guests marveled at his decorations and admired his architectural skills.
One of our guests was a well-known local artist. She took photos and made sketches for the majority of the time she was there. She told her husband that she wanted him to build something just like my husband’s cabin.
She admired all recycled materials and thought it was charming.
While her husband smiled and agreed, I don’t think she’ll get that cabin anytime soon.
Paula Travis is a retired teacher from the Newton County School System. She can be reached at firstname.lastname@example.org.