“The best laid schemes of o’ mice an’ men oft go awry.”
This famous quote by Scottish poet, Robert Burns and the inspiration for the title of John Steinbeck’s 1937 classic novel, “Of Mice and Men”, aptly describes our weekend at the Farm. A week or so ago, Jill called to ask if we would be interested in taking some fall family portraits. I happily agreed although I told her I couldn’t guarantee professional quality but would do my best. Either way it would be a fun day. With all that being said, since we hadn’t been to the Farm in ages, Dad and Janice asked us to go ahead and bring Jasper and plan on spending the night.
So calendars were marked and plans were made. Camera equipment was checked and double checked, overnight bags were packed and the car loaded. Anticipation hung in the air. The weather had been superb. Other than one day of light rain, it had been sunny and clear with temperatures throughout the week in the mid-80’s with zero humidity. Picture perfect fall weather. And yet, Saturday arrived blustery and cold with gale force winds and bone chilling temps. Layers were donned and we hoped for the best. To best capture the softly hued amber rays of fall, we decided to take the portraits in the late afternoon. We gambled that by 4:30 or so, the winds would eventually have died down.
While we waited for the “golden hour” to arrive, the golden hour being that magical time in photography just after sunrise and just before sunset where the light is diffused, we enjoyed a barbeque lunch from Buffalo P’s, Dad’s homemade chocolate pie for dessert and talked, visited and caught up. After lunch Levi took us on a tour and showed us the new deck that had been extended onto the log cabin and the bonfire that had been set for the evening.
We spent the rest of the afternoon goofing off waiting for the weather to improve. Levi hit a few baseballs with Josh, Jill and I walked the farm looking for places to take pictures, Janice re-painted a rolling cabinet in the laundry room, and Dad made a cherry pie while college football provided the soundtrack of the afternoon.
By four thirty, we decided the photo session was a no go. The wind never abated and as the day progressed the temperatures began to drop. Now being unencumbered by a scheduled photo shoot, Dad and Josh decided to go ahead and crank up the bon fire. Although it was still light out, the fire needed time to burn down to create a manageable cooking flame for hot dogs and s’mores.
Note to self. If it is too windy to take pictures outside, it may also be a tad bit too windy to hang out in front of a raging fire. Singed clothing, wind burned faces and smoke inhalation excluded, the fire was a thing of beauty. You did have to your wits about you however, to avoid being engulfed in flames. A small price to pay.
As night fell, we brought out the hot dogs, buns, chips and condiments and got to the roasting. This was an effort in hilarity. Janice found a handful of white coat hangers to use as roasting sticks. You know, the standard issue white ones you get from the dry cleaners. Now, picture this. A group of cold and hungry people huddled in the darkness around a scorching, stone pit, coat hangers wilting from the weight of skewered dogs, desperately trying to maneuver close enough to the flames to cook said dogs without searing the skin off of hands and faces.
The kitty cats, on the other hand, loved the whole cookout experience. Left unattended on the picnic table, the hot dogs were easy prey for our feline friends. Before we knew it, they snagged a couple of hot dogs and rolled them off of the table onto the grass. To their chagrin, Jasper was also the recipient of their unexpected good fortune and managed to finagle one of the hot dogs out of their grasp and inhaled it with glee.
Fortunately, by s’more time, the fire had scaled back to a simmering inferno which made the roasting of marshmallows much more enjoyable. Here is where Jill took the helm. With jumbo marshmallows perched on the end of roasting sticks, she twisted and turned those pillowy confections of goodness until they were slightly charred. Upon placing them in your mouth, the now fragile puffs with their smoky, brûléed exterior, shattered into sugary splinters dissolving and exposing the sticky, gooey center that melted into dreamy bliss.
We consumed the roasted marshmallows with childlike delight eating them singularly, or placing them between two homemade chocolate chip cookies or the traditional method, nestled between graham crackers and broken off sections of Hershey’s chocolate bars. Bonfire nirvana.
Finally satiated we decided to head inside. On the weekends, Dad and Janice usually call the log cabin their second home, but as a special treat, they gussied it all up for us to enjoy for the evening. It was to be our fortress of solitude. So everyone bid us adieu and left us to enjoy the cabins many amenities. Chilled and smelling not so great, the first thing on my list was a hot shower. I must say, it was probably the best shower I have ever had. The volume of water, think cascading waterfall, and the amplitude of heat was exceptional. I lingered an absurd amount of time just savoring the experience. In fact, I had been in the bathroom so long, Terry thought he was going to have to send out a search party.
Exhausted from the day, we crawled between layers of downy blankets and with Jasper nestled between us wrapped up like a burrito, quickly fell into a deep slumber only to be startled awake by a blaring voice saying, “EVACUATE, EVACUATE”. With sleep heavy eyes and rapidly beating hearts we jumped out of bed to look for smoke or fire. Being a scant number of yards away from the fire pit, my first thought was that the high winds had sent a kamikaze ember to attack the cabin. After climbing onto the back of the sofa in the dark to dismantle the fire alarm, Terry assured me that we were fine. He of course, correctly interrupted my silence to mean that I was thinking, “what if we can’t see the flames and the front or back porches are smoldering and we will be engulfed in a fiery death while we sleep”. So being the kind of guy he is and to allay my fears, he grabbed his flashlight and went outside and inspected the perimeter which of course was not ablaze. We couldn’t wait to share our bed and breakfast experience over coffee in the morning.
Sunday was a laid back, relaxed day. We joined everyone in the sunroom with hot cups of joe in our hands and regaled them with our evacuation story. We told them how we dismantled the fire alarm and tried to reach the front desk but that there was no answer. We’ll definitely have to talk to the general manager before we check out.
While Dad and Terry handled the making of breakfast, Jill and Janice looked on while Levi and I played an intense game of checkers. Our hearty breakfast included, sausage and biscuits, gravy, scrambled eggs, pumpkin butter and a few special eggs that were prepared over easy. These special eggs were gathered throughout the week from Daisy, Jill’s egg laying chicken, who has just begun to lay.
The rest of the day was a combination of leisurely, meandering and wandering. Josh headed out at the crack of dawn to go deer hunting. Janice finished waxing her newly painted cabinet in the laundry room and put it back into place. NFL football was on. In the front yard, Terry and Dad hit a few golf balls. Levi acted as the ball boy, hopping into his electric Jeep, picking up balls on the green and returning them to the driving range.
Having finally worn out our welcome we headed home late in the afternoon full of campfire food, a stick to your ribs breakfast and fun, smoke filled memories.
