A Weekend Of Wonderfulness by skiponline

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· @skiponline ·
$31.00
A Weekend Of Wonderfulness
<center>https://skiponlinenow.com/wp-content/uploads/2018/08/boy-at-lake2.jpg</center> <br/><strong>I</strong>t was the first time we had went back to our camp on Long Lake in quite awhile. Mom never liked it back to camp, she found it too isolated. So, she was staying home, and Dad, Pa, (my grandfather), and Mike, a friend of my dads, was going back for a weekend. It was also hunting season, for deer, and Dad and Mike planned on doing a bit of hunting between sleeping and drinking.

Pa, well he was getting up there in age, but still enjoyed the camp. He and my dad built it themselves when dad had just gotten out of the army. Dad had been 21 at the time. Dad was now in his late 40's. It was the third camp to be built on the shores of this particular lake. It was run down a little, didn't have all the modern amenities, and was hard to access, something we actually was glad of.

<center><img class=" wp-image-1344 aligncenter" src="https://skiponlinenow.com/wp-content/uploads/2018/08/cabin-on-lake2-300x200.jpg" alt="" width="497" height="331" /></center><br/>

It had two "bedrooms" which were both off of the kitchen area on either side. The doors for the bedrooms were blankets tacked up for a little privacy. The kitchen had on cupboard, a small counter, and a wooden stove. Oh and lets not forget the old wooden table with 4 old wooden chairs where we spent many nights playing cards! There was a cot along one wall that was Pas' nest! He'd lay off on that old cot and snore a storm up.

Mike, my dads friend was actually a town cop. How he ever became a cop is beyond me. He wasn't very tall, and was almost as wide as he was tall, in other words he was one fat bastard. Still, he refereed hockey games and other sports events, and could keep up with the best of them. He and his wife had moved in next door to us a few years earlier. He was excited to be at the camp, but then getting away from his nagging wife, and two boys who still weren't "house trained" at the ages of 5 and 7, he'd have been excited to be just about anywhere, as long as he was away from them for a little while, at least.

<div class="pull-left"><img class=" wp-image-1345 alignleft" src="https://skiponlinenow.com/wp-content/uploads/2018/08/boy-at-lake2-300x200.jpg" alt="" width="239" height="159" /></div><br/>

Anyway, we were at camp, and I was there with my Pa, who spoiled me rotten. I loved the man with all my heart, and just being able to be around him made it all worthwhile. The "adults" were playing a game of Blackjack for nickels. I went outside and played around the shore of the lake, and throwing stones in the water.

&nbsp;

&nbsp;

I had contemplated taking the old row boat for a row, but after so many layers of tar painted on the bottom of the boat, to prevent it from leaking and sinking, it was heavy and hard to row. After all, I was only 11 at the time, and about as big as a bean pole.

&nbsp;

<center><img class="wp-image-1346 aligncenter" src="https://skiponlinenow.com/wp-content/uploads/2018/08/old-rowboat2.jpg" alt="" width="518" height="497" /></center><br/>

Later in the afternoon, dad decided it might be a good time to go fishing, Mike declined and decided he needed a nap. Pa and I went for a walk along the shore of the lake. It was nearing early evening and dad hadn't arrived back from his fishing, he had taken the boat and went across the lake to some fishing hole he knew, but he would have been far enough away we wouldn't have been able to see him. A lake fog had settled on the lake, and Pa was getting worried. He had yelled dads name a few times but hadn't gotten an answer.

<center><img class="wp-image-1347 aligncenter" src="https://skiponlinenow.com/wp-content/uploads/2018/08/fog-on-a-lake-300x200.jpeg" alt="" width="776" height="517" /></center><br/>

Pa had the brilliant idea to get the old sawed off shotgun out, and shoot a round or two in the air, to give dad a sense of direction, if need be. It was the old type with a lever you pushed to the side to load. He loaded it up, and not thinking, he held it upright and shot a round into the air. With a loud bang the gun went off, and not only did it scare the crap out of Mike, who was inside, but my Pa ended up with that lever going deep into my Pa's hand, between his thumb and his index finger. It caused a nasty gash, but no stitches were required.

<div class="pull-left"><img class=" wp-image-1348 alignleft" src="https://skiponlinenow.com/wp-content/uploads/2018/08/sawed-off-shotgun2-300x149.jpg" alt="" width="366" height="182" /></div><br/>

Just shortly after this excitement, dad showed up with 6 nice size trout, which he said he would fry up for us for something to eat. He was a great cook, and made some really fine food, much of which were recipes he had made up in his head. One of those such recipes was rabbit done in a wine sauce. My personal favorite, because he used real wine, and since I was only 11, I would get half pissed drunk drinking the sauce left over. I was almost hoping for a dish of that, but knew it was to be trout, this evening!

<div class="pull-right"><img class="wp-image-1351 alignright" src="https://skiponlinenow.com/wp-content/uploads/2018/08/kerosene-lamp-2-300x200.jpg" alt="" width="276" height="184" /></div><br/>Later in the evening, dad and Mike decided they were going to do a little "night hunting" which is actually illegal. Then, dad was with a cop, and he was supposed to have known where the wildlife wardens were patrolling that weekend. So off they went. Pa and I played some cards and sat in the lamplit kitchen just enjoying the peace and quiet that the camp allowed.

&nbsp;

Several hours later, dad entered the camp, a bit winded, and sat down on Pa's cot. When he fully regained his breath, he told Pa that he and Mike had been at the edge of a field, just inside the treeline when a warden's jeep came down the dirt road and turned onto the field. They both bolted like a blue streak and ran into the woods, side by side. It was while running that dad heard mike give a big OOOOOHHH! Dad stopped and went back to find Mike holding on to his "crown jewels", he had ran between two trees, with a deadfall across the opening between them. It was just the right, or wrong height, depending on who is telling the story. Mike had hit that at full speed running.

Mike said he would be fine and to go on without him, he'd around when he pulled himself together. It was while Pa and I were laughing from dads story that Mike walked into the camp, he was a little green, but other than that, no worse for wear.ย We all turned in for the night after he got back, and I just wish I'd have fallen asleep before they all did. It was an awful sound listening to them all snore.

The next day arose, beautiful and sunny, and actually quite warm for that time of year. The loons were down a ways, on the lake, greeting us good morning with their erieย  cries, a welcome sound to my ears. One of the things I loved about camp, in all that serenity, were those loons.

Dad and Mike decided to do some "legal" hunting this day. Off they went and Pa and I took the old rowboat and headed across the lake. I had a line in the water, but wasn't really paying any attention to it. It was just nice to be with Pa, and quietly drift along in the boat.

<div class="pull-left"><img class=" wp-image-1352 alignleft" src="https://skiponlinenow.com/wp-content/uploads/2018/08/fishing-with-grandpa-300x158.png" alt="" width="273" height="144" /></div><br/>

Suddenly, out of nowhere, Pa began telling me this would be his last trip back to the camp. I was taken aback, and asked why? He didn't give me an answer, at least one I understood, so I didn't press him for any more information. We did spend a great time on the lake that day, and I am glad I have this memory, still in my failing memory bank.

&nbsp;

The rest of the weekend was spent just sitting playing cards and sleeping, but it was a hell of a trip. Pa had been right about it being his last trip back to the old camp. three months later he had a massive stroke. Dad and i coaxed him to go to the hospital, he was stubborn and wouldn't go, but finally gave in. His main protests were if he went to the hospital he would die, he was right again. I took the call from the hospital at 2:15 in the morning... <br /><center><hr/><em>Posted from my blog with <a href='https://wordpress.org/plugins/steempress/'>SteemPress</a> : https://skiponlinenow.com/a-weekend-of-wonderfulness/ </em><hr/></center> 
๐Ÿ‘  , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , and 779 others
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vote details (843)
@curie ·
Congrats on a Curie vote!
Hi skiponline,
<div class="pull-right">
https://steemitimages.com/DQmXgrYG8AKimJKRSu2urPB5SPcftN6GCGx2gVJJMwBkuTu/Curie%20Logo%2075px.png
</div>
This post  has been upvoted by the Curie community curation project and associated vote trail as exceptional content (human curated and reviewed).  Have a great day :) <br>
 
Visit <a href="http://curiesteem.com/">curiesteem.com</a> or join the <a href="https://discord.gg/G6RPUMu">Curie Discord community</a> to learn more.
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@skiponline ·
thank you, greatly appreciated.
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@macoolette ·
>was almost as wide as he was tall

That made me laugh real hard even when I am alone reading your story. You're mean to describe Mike that way, ain't you? ๐Ÿ˜ƒ

Kidding aside, it is a heart warming story.  I heard it several times that grandparents care of their grandchildren more than their children once they have the latter.  Your story proves that.

>my Pa, who spoiled me rotten. 

I noticed the sepia photos and I wondered why.  I thought those would really be great in colored version.  But reading through the end, I now understand.  You are lucky to have caught your grandfather while he is still active. All my grandparents were gone when I was born. 

Good short story there!
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@skiponline ·
thank you for stopping in and commenting. I always appreciate people stopping by. My grandpa, I sure do miss him, he was quite a guy.
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@macoolette ·
You're welcome. I wonder when your Pa passed away.
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@gaman ·
Resteemed your article.  This article was resteemed because you are part of the New Steemians project. You can learn more about it here: https://steemit.com/introduceyourself/@gaman/new-steemians-project-launch
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@ecoinstant ·
$0.03
Funny how that works, those old guys just seemed to have a sense about their place in the world and how long they had left...

I love my memories of the old hunting shack as well, playing cards and telling jokes was always the main activity to me, just wandering out in the woods was what we did to pass the time until night fall again!

Thanks for sharing the memories, locking them into this new form of time capsule!
๐Ÿ‘  ,
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