Cabin Sweet Cabin

September 25th, 2018 by Magdalena Tabor

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Fall is upon us, in case you haven’t heard, or felt its cold shoulder. The onset of cooler weather gently draws us indoors, however reluctantly. I embrace this comfort myself with tentative arms as our cabin is not yet finished.
An oversized cabin, perhaps, but most certainly an understated house by today’s standards. No cookie cutter McMansion for me, thank you, having always retreated from the norm preferring to live life more simply. A log house, ranch style, tucked into the woods just so, a swirl of blue gray smoke emanating from its chimney, a loaf of good brown bread in the oven. An enormous stack of firewood patiently awaits the harsh Catskill winter. I eye these riches with a satisfying sigh which is seemingly kept at breath’s length.
When will the day come? When will I, at long last, morph into a more civilized version of Anne LaBastille with all the creature comforts of log house living. When?
As I ponder these things on a raw and rainy afternoon just on the cusp of October, I was delighted to learn that Anne’s cabin “West of the Wind” was carefully dismantled just last year, reassembled and lodged within the confines of a museum. I had always had the uncomfortable notion of it rotting away, or worse, vandalized after her death in 2011. Although, it seems somewhat odd to think of it existing anywhere other than in its chosen location, hand picked and hand built by Anne herself, the alternative is anything but the happy outcome we have today.
So while I rely on the two sets of hands, apart from my own, that are in the process of building this amazing stick by stick dwelling, we are at the mercy of human limitations, weather, and the general inconsistencies life inserts into our agenda without care or concern for our impatience. In short, it just doesn’t give a hoot (spoken by the wide eyed owl curiously eyeing my nest).
When next I take ink to paper (or keyboard to computer) it may well be inside the cozy comfort of a log home that will hopefully remain where it is for all time. Alas, I am not the celebrated author anyone would interest themselves into preserving what I have not built for myself. But with a pot of tea at the ready and oh yes, that bit of brown bread that should have been eaten long since, I am content to be as I am. Until then….


Tyler Talks Kinfolk

September 17th, 2018 by Magdalena Tabor



Hey, it’s me! Tyler! I’ve been a long time napping. Some might say it’s sheer laziness. For one thing, laziness is not sheer. You can’t see through laziness. It’s as plain as the crinkled whisker on an old cat’s face. I’m thinking I should move to a place called Sleepy Hollow, that way there will be no more questions asked. So before I get into a rant, let’s talk “kinfolk”. That’s country for kit folk, they just don’t know how to spell.


Nothing gets my fur in a knot so much than when a perfect stranger asks, “Do you have any children?” and when I say “No”, they say “I’m sorry”. What in God’s great litterbox are you sorry for? Sorry you have so many and I’m as free as the bird I ate last night? Or sorry you asked such a sorry assed question? What makes you think I want 5 kits like you? So each one of them can have 5 and I don’t have enough Fancy Feet for myself? There’s just so much yarn at Jo-Ann’s Fabrics to keep them all happy. I’d have to teach each one of them to knit just to keep us all in blankets. No ma’am. I’m sorry you’re sorry you’re such a sorry excuse for a brainless Bean.


Now that I’ve gotten that out of the way (whew! that felt good) I want to talk cousins. Okay, a cousin is one thing (and I’ve got plenty) but what’s a cousin once removed? When did they move him and why? Where did they put him? Was that him on the doorstep at 2 am last night? And a cousin TWICE removed?? Wasn’t once enough? Why do they have to keep moving them around? There’s no doubt in my mind I’d have a lot more cousins if they’d just let them alone. How will I ever find them?


And what about step children? Are they too little they need a step stool? And step parents. Do you need a ladder to reach them? I propose everyone keeps off the stairs so we can all share the same ground. Size doesn’t matter.


And what about “next of kin?” If you just squint one eye open and look sideways you’d see for yourself who’s there. And they call me lazy!


All these questions should be brought up at the next election. If the candidates can’t answer accordingly they have no business running. When will that Orange Cat eat crow? Oh, that’s right, he dyed his fur yellow. And for the love of Pete (who’s Pete again?) stop calling him Mr. Precedent. He’s only an example of what not to do.


So……….whadayathink? How many children do YOU have?