Last night was miserable.
The poison ivy—which occasionally gives me hope that it’s finally getting better—has apparently decided that it is not going gently into that good night.
Every once in a while, it comes roaring back with a vengeance.
Last night was one of those nights.
At this point, the only explanation I can come up with is that somewhere along the way I must have found a patch of poison ivy and rolled naked in it.
I have poison ivy on my toes, feet, legs, buttocks and other sensitive places, belly, chest, arms and hands.
So far, somehow, I don’t seem to have it on my face.
I’m not sure how my face escaped when practically every other square inch of me apparently volunteered for duty, but I’ll take the small victory.
Last night I doused myself in calamine lotion and anti-itch spray, and none of it seemed to do much good. I spent a good portion of the night sitting up, waiting for everything to calm down enough that I could sleep.
There was, however, one reward for being awake in the middle of the night.
The moonlight outside was incredible.
It was so clear and bright that when I looked out the window, it almost seemed as though there were a streetlight outside the cabin—which would be particularly impressive considering there isn’t a streetlight for miles.
It was beautiful.
When morning finally arrived, I assumed I was in for a rough day. I’d slept so poorly that I expected to be exhausted and accomplish very little.
Instead, somehow, it turned into a great and very productive day.
First up was laundry.
And, of course, if you’re going all the way to Princeton to do laundry, there’s really no choice but to have breakfast at the Old Fashioned Family Restaurant.
So I did.
That was certainly a good start.
I also stopped at Princeton General Hardware looking for something I needed and, much to my surprise, they actually had it.
Another victory.
Then it was back to Camp Hidey Ho and more work on the bog walkway.
Thursday is also my weekly call with Aunt Millie, and we had a lovely conversation.
Since my mom is no longer with us, Aunt Millie has taken on at least a little of Mom’s former responsibility for worrying about me.
Her concern today was that I’m way up here by myself.
What happens if something happens to you?
Is there anybody around who could help?
I assured her that I’m careful, everything is fine, and she doesn’t need to worry about me.
Naturally, later that very same day, I was carrying a load of decking boards up the walkway when I tripped and went down hard.
Really hard.
I landed in such a way that I initially thought I might have broken a rib.
So I just lay there on the walkway for a while, getting my bearings and assessing the situation.
And I remember thinking:
Well… maybe Aunt Millie has a point.
Fortunately, I seem to be okay. My ribs are very sore, but I don’t think anything is broken. I can take a full breath if I do it slowly, which is encouraging.
But it was certainly a reminder of how quickly things can go from perfectly fine to potentially not fine when you’re alone in the woods doing construction projects.
As if I didn’t already have enough going on, I’ve also spent a good portion of today dealing with something completely unrelated to Camp Hidey Ho.
The fire-damaged rental house in Florida.
Someone recently showed up at the property and talked to Trudy. He said he was interested in buying the house as is, fire damage and all.
That wasn’t something we’d been pursuing. Our plan had been to rebuild it.
But an unsolicited offer has a way of making you reconsider your plans.
So we talked it over, came up with a price, and ultimately everyone agreed.
Suddenly I’m scrambling to find an attorney and title company to put together the contract and handle the closing.
I spent much of the morning making calls and seem to have found an attorney who can help us. Hopefully we’ll get the contract to the buyers tomorrow, get it signed, and start moving toward a closing.
If it all works out, it would essentially make the decision about the house for us.
And, frankly, there would be a tremendous sense of relief in that.
Rebuilding would mean months of dealing with contractors, monitoring construction, making decisions and spending a substantial amount of money before the property was whole again.
Selling it as is would allow us to close that chapter and move on.
We’ll see what happens.
I also got some much happier news today.
I heard through the grapevine that Jen, Austin and the girls are planning to come up this weekend!
I haven’t actually heard it directly from Jen yet, so I’m not counting on it completely. But apparently the word on the street—or whatever passes for a street around here—is that they’re coming.
That would be wonderful.
It would be especially nice to have some company during my final few days and to finally share this beautiful place with someone besides Trudy, the dogs and me.
Although I suppose that’s not entirely accurate anymore.
Because I have Buddy.
Buddy is the mouse.
I’ve seen him every night since the evening when he managed to get himself trapped in the plastic bag inside my trash can and I carried him outside and released him.
Apparently my eviction notice was ineffective.
He generally appears around 8:00 in the evening, after it gets dark. I’ll catch a little movement out of the corner of my eye and there he is.
He’s become remarkably comfortable around me.
He’ll wander around the cabin, come fairly close, and even climb back into the same trash can where he previously got himself trapped.
He does seem to be a little more careful now.
Apparently mice can learn from experience.
Tonight he even let me take his picture.
He smiled.
So I’ve decided that since he’s apparently a permanent resident of Camp Hidey Ho, he deserves a name.
From this day forward, the mouse shall be known as Buddy.
Tomorrow should be another busy day.
I’m not sure what the weather is going to do, but hopefully I can make some serious progress on the remaining projects—and perhaps tidy the place up a little so that when Jen, Austin and the girls arrive, Camp Hidey Ho looks like the fabulous wilderness resort that it is.
Or at least like a fabulous wilderness resort currently undergoing extensive renovations.
We’ll see what tomorrow brings.