The Saddest Day of the Year

It is always the saddest day of the year.

The sky over the water will be set afire no more.

From the water, watching the sun set is always fabulous.  But that's over for this year.

The Smores are history.

But I want some more!

There is no place to sit by the fire pit.
Fire mound, really...it needs to be cleaned out.

The lawn chairs a stacked by the cooler, with care.

The kayaks and collector's-item-canoe are tucked away
where the snow and ice will barely touch them.

No longer needed, 
the paddles have been disassembled according to Bob's instructions,
and are hidden in their corner.

Bob says that one must disassemble paddles from time to time, lest they lose their two part nature.  Sounds reasonable, and I always follow good advice.  And yes, sometimes bad advice as well.  I've made up my mind to never again reply in the affirmative when someone suggests that a chainsaw is a better alternative.  

Silence.

Drained and blown out, the pipes are empty all the way back to the pump house.
On this sad day, one can't help but feel like the pipes...
blown out and empty.

The pink stuff is in the traps.

Essential equipment has been rendered inoperative,
and is prepared for hiatus.

And on the electrical panel...

The main breaker is off.

Sigh.

But...

There is a distinct possibility that this sadness, this malaise, this emptiness may become a thing of the past.  With greater occupancy, there is less impetus driving shutdown.  So...

The variance application has been filed with the Adirondack Park Agency.  All true and in earnest, of course, but if you find yourself in need of hooey in painful minutia, I am quite willing to share the mind-numbing supply created in completing this application.

If you're going to create something more habitable, you want the basement floor to be above the flood plain, don't you?  And since the shallow pitched roof of the garage succumbed to the weight of snow in 2003, you'd kinda want to be sure the new roof is steep enough to shed that weight, right?  So we're asking for 2 more feet of height than the regulations allow.  And a couple hundred more square feet, so that we'll only feel inconvenienced, not cramped, when everyone arrives for the holidays.

Our Architect, in addition to throwing parties at the existing camp, has provided us with renderings of options for rebuilding.  What do you think?  Where would you prefer to swat blackflies?  On which deck would you rather sip your cocktail when you come to visit?

Option 1:  Nouveau Adirondack Lean-to
Mary's silhouette is enjoying the view.

Option 2:  Roofines similar to the original,
with lovely scissor-trusses.

Get your votes in now!

Stewart's Landing Epic

Mary went off to do some shopping

While I prepared to go kayaking

And the sky above was absolutely blue

But our plans were changed abruptly

when a storm came in quite swiftly

soon after we had bid a fond adieu.

Her task was almost through

When the manager boo-hooed,

"Leave your carts, folks. 
We have been hit"

The man found it very frightening

to be the target of the lightning 

and he didn't want any further part of it.

Meanwhile, I heard the thunder rumble

saw the dark clouds in a jumble

and thought, 
“Maybe I should turn my boat around."

I paddled like the devil

atop the water level

and still dry, arrived upon the solid ground.

I sat on the porch of my chateau

enjoyed the crash and lightning show

and absolutely missed the urgent ringing phone

So Mary called the neighbors

and asked them for a favor

to make sure that I had made it safely home.

They arrived, knocked, and entered,

found no one and then departed

since I was soaping up, hidden in the shower.

Reporting back to Mary

they found it somewhat scary

that I might be a recent victim of wind power.

When I was fully dried

and the howling winds had died

And I was, post-shower, feeling really great

I’d heard the last of thunder

but I began to wonder

So I called to see why Mary was so late

Then I got the story

heard of lightning strikes and worry

And of kind concern for me, on this occasion,

So I called the folks next door

“Be very careful!” I implored,

“There have been nearby reports, of home invasion!"

Mist rising after the storm.