I’m here at the moominbeach and I’m happy to be here so why did I have such a hard time dragging myself away from the Landfill this morning? I don’t think I have the words to describe that.

The moominbeach actually *is* home. Going to the moomin is actually one of my earliest memories. We would turn off (the then gravel) 6-Mile Road onto (the then gravel) Birch Point Loop. I’m not even sure that road had a name then. What I remember about this is hearing the susurration of the pine trees in the wind as we made the turn. I was lying in the back seat of the Old Black Ford (I don’t need no stinkin’ car seat). We drove out from our house in Sault Ste. Siberia. But that house (and the house the parents moved to much later) have long belonged to other people and they aren’t home for me now.

Back in those days, we stayed at the Old Cabin for the summer. It was the *only* cabin. My uncle Don’s cabin was being built that summer, I think. I also have a vague memory of a telephone ringing at the Old Cabin (hopefully I’m not crazy). He would need a telephone because he was often on call as a doc. After his cabin was finished, it was many many years before there was a phone at the Old Cabin again.

So until I was six and we built the moomincabin, my family spent summers in the Old Cabin with two families of cousins. I mostly remember the good times but The Two-Year-Old Summer apparently wasn’t much fun for our moms (The Commander, Radical Betty, and Bubs). The two-year-olds were me and the two FinFam girl cousins who were born the same year as me. Apparently it rained a LOT that summer. And during a refrigerator clean-out session, people were punching out eggs and stuff. (I think that was UKW, always the ring-leader.) There is an infamous photo of the three of us two-year-old cousins bathing in various tubs purportedly sized to our butts on the hearth in front of the faaarplace. I’ll have to look that up and post it.

After the moomincabin was built, it took a little pressure off the number of people in the Old Cabin but we all ran back and forth all the time, in and out all day. Nobody ever knocked on a door at the moominbeach in those days. You just barged on in. Often loudly. I’m pretty sure my grandmother loved all the hubbub.

So where was I? I was at The Landfill this morning and now I am here and (yay!) one of the beach urchins has arrived for the week. She is UBER busy and as of last night wasn’t sure she could make it (it’s a frickin’ five hour drive). I was feeling almost a little verklempt but here she is (and I wouldda been okay in any case). After yesterday’s hot sweaty day on the Planet Ann Arbor, today at the moominbeach it may be 60? And there’s a northwest wind. Chilly but not terrible.

Anyway. I didn’t wanna leave the Landfill this morning and I won’t wanna leave the moominbeach when it’s time to go back to the Landfill.

This entry was posted on Sunday, June 30th, 2024 at 6:16 pm and is filed under Uncategorized. You can follow any responses to this entry through the RSS 2.0 feed. Both comments and pings are currently closed.