Weekend at The Ozark Hilton

I must apologize for the lighter-than-normal blogging; I have been bored with the news of late and have really felt like getting away from it all. I had investigated a trip to the Falklands, but at $7000 airfare (you have to fly to Santiago, Chile, or Montevideo, Uruguay first, then catch a mail-carrier to Port Stanley) I decided on a more reasonable getaway, so I spent the weekend at my famous 5 star accomodation in the Ozarks.

For those of you who are new to Birdblog, I have constructed a tarpaper shack from scraps of lumber I had dug out of back alleys. The Garwood Ritz sits on a ridge of hardwood forest in the middle of no-where, with coyotes, possum, possibly wildcats, mice, squirrels, wasps, yellow jackets,and all of God`s creatures trying to make a reservation to stay in my fashionable pad. It is ``somewhat secluded`` as we say; it lies on a dirt trail I wacked out of the forest. There is no toilet (except a couple of cinder-blocks and a seat), no running water, no electricity, no squat. Tarps cover the rafters to keep out the rain (sometimes) and I heat with a fireplace made from cinder blocks and an old barrel which, unfortunately, puts more smoke into the cabin than through the stovepipe chimney. I light the place with kerosene lanterns-if you fire up fifteen of them you might have enough light to read by! (Actually, my in-laws bought me a gas lantern, which does a nice job of lighting the place now.) I do have a nice Weber grill I found in a dumpster to cook on.

Still, I love the crazy place, in spite of being attacked by yellow jackets, getting chiggers and ticks on a regular basis, having animals settle in the cabin uninvited, etc. (I recently got a pet wasp. I chased him around the cabin, and couldn`t catch the little booger, so after a while I left him alone and he came and sat down next to me on the futon; I realized he wasn`t going to sting, so I just left him. We pall around now-my wasp and me!) Let`s not forget the squirrel who decided to move her family into the tarp roof! They are always kicking leaves on me when I sleep.

I decided enough is enough, so I constructed a new shelter to house my worldly goods until I can actually finish the cabin. When I first settled my land, I had build a teepee-like structure from saplings and old tarps. The teepee worked well the first year; it kept me dry even in pouring rain (despite the smoke hole) and I could build a fire inside of it. That open smokehole was a real problem, however, and water running down the poles caused them to sag, which made the teepee leak more, which made the poles sag more. (Wasps settled inside the structure, also.) I eventually took it down, and found I had families of mice and even a possum family living inside! I felt like a heel kicking them out of their home, but what the heck...

At any rate, I decided to build another traditional woodland Indian structure-a wigwam. A wigwam is build by taking small, green saplings, charring them on the ends so they don`t rot in the ground, then arranging them in a circle and bending them over. You tie them into a series of arches and then tie cross-members to secure them. It`s a lot like building a dome-shaped arbor. Being the goofball that I am, I didn`t tie with string or rope, but instead used duct-tape to secure the saplings (it seems to be working fairly well) and covered the structure with carpet remnants I scrounged up. I intend to put tar-paper over that, then plastic wrap it, then more tar paper. I temporarily covered the structure with the old tarps from the teepee.

Unfortunately, those tarps have worn thin, and the wigwam leaks. I learned that the hard way Saturday, since the weatherman lied his silly toupee off and said slight chance of sprinkles, when in fact it rained steadily all day. The wigwam stayed fairly dry, but I am going to have to deal with the problem there asap. I wasted my day sitting inside this structure, reading a book and watching a rat (or large brown mouse, I`m not sure) run laps through my new digs. I accomplished very little.

Which is a pity, because I wanted to try to drag somebody down for the Memorial Day weekend. I needed to get things cleaned up and ready to go, but I couldn`t with that drumbeat of rain. This means I can only have a few people, at best (who will be dragged kicking and screaming, no doubt!) My wife foolishly volunteered to come, and boy is she going to regret it!

She actually may have figured a way out for herself; she found a place in western Missouri which rents yurts, and so we are going to spend a night in a Yurt. This will be, of course, far more civilized than the cabin or the wigwam, and she`ll have a reasonable excuse for ducking out on the Garwood Hilton.

(A yurt is a round Mongolian tent, with lattice walls, a skylight in the center, and roof rafters. They are supposed to be very comfortable, and have become trendy in recent years. My wife was thinking about buying one for me for my birthday, but when she saw the prices of those things...)

So, I`ll be off to summer in a yurt for Memorial Day, and I may succeed in dragging an involuntary guest or two down my hip pad. I`m thinking of bringing my cat Blackberry, who enjoyed it when we went last time although he was carsick on the ride down. I`ve heard you can give your cat dramamine, and I may try that; he would LOVE for it to be just the two of us down there! I`ll leave grumpy old Goccia at home-he pouted the entire trip last time.

At any rate, I haven`t much been in the mood to blog, and I`ve had to dig for things to write about. Everyone enjoys my tales of brokedown resort, so I thought I`d regale you with a few more.