The Minnesota Farm Woman

Cabins are a lot of fun, but a lot of work. Luckily, we can usually manage to do both. Our family has owned the lake property since the late 1950’s, so my sister and I were the first generation of kids to swim and play on the beach with a bucket and a shovel, tadpoles and fishing poles. Over the years, the sand turned to wild strawberry plants, then weeds. Dad would cut it with a scythe, but in the later years since the next generation took over, a lawn mower is used, although the old scythe is probably around there somewhere. Keeping the weeds down helps decrease the bug population, but you wouldn’t know it by the mosquitoes we slapped and flies we waved away, even though we doused ourselves with repellent. Some things never change. HE surprised our grandson with a big pile of sand up on the lawn, and as everyone began to rake it to make a beach of sorts, Max became the king of the hill. Seeing all that sand reminded me of my own childhood summers there, and I longed to slide down that pile myself, barefoot and without a care in the world except for a few itchy mosquito bites. Having sand in one’s britches is more bothersome for an old grandmother than a young boy however, and besides, there were dishes to wash the old-fashioned way. That means hauling water from the pump and boiling it on the stove before pouring it into a dish pan and scalding your hands. Some of you would probably rather have sand in your britches, but believe me, there is a nice view of the woods from the kitchen, the birds were singing, and the work went by quickly. As the king reluctantly left the hill, covered in sand from the top of his head to the tips of his toes and carrying a toy shovel, he looked back and said, “Keep it just like this forever!” Oh, my heart! Even with mosquitoes and flies and sand in my britches, I would if I only could.