I’ve told moominbeach outhouse stories in this space before. Actually, My Dear Uncle Harry still maintains an outhouse and I used it one morning last summer when I was telecommuting from the Lyme Lounge and every time I went in to the moomincabin to use the Water Closet, someone was taking a shower. I always make sure to contribute a roll of toilet paper to the cause.

Besides that, wanna know how we got our (cold) running water when I was a kid? No, we did not (as grandroobly used to say, describing one of his childhood chores) RUN down to the beach with a bucket, fill it up, and RUN back up to the cabin. We got it from my uncle’s well via a garden hose. It was indeed only cold water for many many years. If you wanted to wash the dishes (or your feet, like I did *every* night), you heated water in big teakettles on the [electric] stove.

As the years went on, we complicated our simple carefree summer lives with indoor plumbing and a water heater and eventually we (I mean my parents) decided our needs had outgrown the garden hose and we needed to drill our own well. What an adventure that turned out to be. Here is the rig that came out to drill our well.

Yes, it was a mess. Not to mention that the whole prodject was temporarily interrupted when a tornado warning happened out in Whitefish Bay and a couple of my cousin’s kids were out in *our* bay (south of Whitefish Bay but close enough to be worried) rowing the rowboat of sailing fame (and notoriety, alas) and I had to neglect our well drilling guy’s questions to run down to the beach yelling and screaming and waving a big bright beach towel around trying to get their attention. STORM COMING! COME BACK TO SHORE! Never a dull moment and we DO NOT mess around with water safety at the moominbeach.

They did return safely but the well thingy in the pic below was not the end of the story.

I forget exactly what happened. I’m thinking it was some kind of collapse or something? At any rate, the well had to be RE-drilled on the *other* side of the moomincabin. That well was successful and it serves up water to this day. And here are a few people sitting around on the moomincabin deck. Do we recognize any of them? What about the incognito behind book one? Teenagers… 💚

Un-tethered? I am un-tethered from my [blasted] fitbit. I went to plug it in Thursday night and it, uh, wasn’t there. I mean in the wristband. I knew it was in the house somewhere because it was syncing with my phone. I could not find it. I mentioned out loud that I couldn’t find it and immediately regretted it. Full-fledged rummaging session at 10 PM? For a *fitbit*? No thank you. I couldn’t find it yesterday morning and I decided to just Bag It. I know how many steps I get in an average day. That’s not likely to change drastically. I am sick of it telling me I haven’t walked 250 steps in an hour. I know that it’s good not to sit all day but really? I found it this morning. I got out of the shower and it was staring me in the face underneath the bottom of the bathroom cabinet. (What is that little black thing on the floor? Oh…) Why did it take me that long to notice it? Why didn’t the Rummager in Chief see it? I dunno. I decided not to put it on today. I think I am taking a break from my own OCD. I do that sometimes.

One Response to “Un-tethered”

  1. Margaret Says:

    Although I still like to get over 10K steps, I can’t be obsessive when fun events like trips to California come up. Riding on planes isn’t conducive to walking. 🙂 I know I’m active, like you, and so I need to give myself a break!