This bench is destined for somewhere on the North Country Trail, probably in the Tahquamenon area.

We have one on the bank at the moominbeach and we LOVE it. It is especially good for elderly relatives who can no longer easily get to the beach but I formed a loverly habit of taking coffee down there on calm mornings this summer, not to mention hanging out there in the afternoon when the sun comes over the yardarm.

But what about the cryptobiotic soil, you are asking? Or maybe you are not. The first time I encountered that term was in an email from someone who was passive-aggressively trying to pick a fight with me. The strategy was to underestimate my intelligence and use a term that I probably didn’t know. And I didn’t but what is Google for anyway? It is for someone like me, who has a decent vocabulary but does not know it all to look up things like “cryptobiotic soil”. I went along with the passive-aggressive crap for a while but, after a few inscrutable emails where words I had written were twisted beyond recognition, I said DIRECTLY, “I am sorry but I am angry”. A few billion tweets from a couple of Twitter Dogz howling at the moon ensued and then silence. Until the xmas season rolled around, when there was a “thawing” with a few “hugs” or whatever you want to call them. I accepted the “hugs” although I remained very wary, which turned out to be a good thing given what happened later after The Commander died.

I understand what cryptobiotic soil is but I’m not sure we have that on our bank, where historically, we have *always* stored boats and chairs and pieces of wood and whatever. I remember a very hot day when my grandma was very elderly. Her children installed her on the bank in a lawn chair wearing only her slip (that was because of *heat* and no one could see her except her immediate family, who were all empathetic) and slipped her a minor mickey (weak whiskey sour or something) to help her nap a bit. (Grandma was a teetotaler and probably didn’t know what was in her “pop”. Her kids respected that in general but this did help her nod off into a comfortable nap.)

I have always agreed with treading as lightly as possible in terms of building things on the bank (or anywhere on the moomincabin land although I have come to appreciate the garage that my brother built). But we also own the land and we need to be able to use the little bits of it that are directly in front of our cabins without feeling guilt.

Sorry for letting out a bit of long-simmering anger, albeit in a cryptic fashion. There are some stories that cannot be told in a straightforward manner at least for now, in part because I still do not understand them myself! What did I do? I do not know!

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