Today was a good day. I spent it helping my friend John work at his cabin in a resort area, getting it ready for vacation rental. I've done this many times before, and I always have fun. The cabin sits on a wooded one acre lot. Unless the nearby forests are on fire, which happened this summer, the air is always crisp and clean. It smells like camping.
Sometimes I work really hard— hauling firewood, cleaning out deadwood, painting, staining, washing windows. Other times it's been a little easier. Today I spent my time sorting through old sheets and towels, remaking beds with new linens, and vacuuming up lots and lots of flies (in years past there were seldom any dead flies. The bats got them all. Now the bats have been banished from the house, so the flies have free reign until their short little lives expire naturally.)
Of course I always get some perks for my work. I have several free nights which I could use anytime of the year, if it's not already rented. It's close to two ski resorts, many wonderful mountain trails, a golf course, and a nearby hot springs. Someday I'm actually going to find that hot springs and perhaps I'll bring my golf clubs too.
It's a beautiful place. Yes, it looks like a log cabin. Because it is. The outside of the cabin and the inside exterior walls are formed of logs. Once the woodstove has been burning for awhile, the inside of the logs heat up nicely and the whole place is cozy warm. But that's the only reminder that it's a cabin.
Because it's actually a house (with log walls). Three bedrooms, two bathrooms, a nice kitchen, laundry area, dining room and living room. A deck that wraps halfway around the cabin, half of it covered. It's awesome.
I should emphasize, this cabin has two bathrooms. Indoor. With showers and sinks and toilets. So why, oh why did I end up peeing outside by the shed today when the temperature was 40 degrees?
Common sense would have led me straight to one of the two fully operational bathrooms. But nature convinced John otherwise.
Because dear reader, a fox had decided that a nice, warm den underneath John's shed would be an ideal place to live during the cold winter months.
And actually the story started many months earlier. John saw the fox. Then he saw the signs of digging. Then he saw an ambitious beginning of a fox hole. He brought his rifle with him once. He filled in the holes and covered them with rocks. To no avail, for that fox was determined to claim the undershed territory for a cozy little home.
So during our last visit over a month ago, my friend said that when it was time for me to heed Mother Nature's call, to please pee in the foxhole. Apparently this was a way to make the hole so disgusting, no self-respecting fox would even contemplate moving in.
I refused. Indoor toilets seemed like a much better solution. Besides, John already took care of that.
Today however, I acquiesced. Although it probably won't work, I found myself peeing in the fox hole. Now, it wasn't as bad as it sounded. First of all, there were no passing cars or neighbors who could possibly see me. Second, I have peed in much weirder places during trail runs in the hills. And third, I just wanted John off my back about this. And if I could save this fox from a sad end, I would do my part to gross the poor dear out and help him or her find a more suitable winter home.
I don't know if this will work. Time will tell. Either the dirt around the shed will remain untouched by canine claws, or next spring we will see a litter of cute little fox kits. I know what I want to see, but then, it's not my cabin...