MONDAY, JUNE 27, 2011, PART 1
Sunday night was miserable. It was warm in the cabin when we went to bed because of the fire Dennis and I built in the glass fronted franklin stove. In fact it was TOO warm; I thought I was developing a fever by the time I pulled the ladder down from the 2.5” x 2.5” foot hole in the ceiling and crawled up to the loft to explore the attic in preparation for bed.
To my surprise, it was much cooler in the attic. I found 2 twin mattresses side by side with a foam egg crate pad lying atop them. I called down to Carrie, asking if our hosts had any sheets. She called back that, even if they did, we wouldn’t be using them because we had no way to wash them. “Sleep inside the bag”, Lolly ordered. I tried, but found my sleeping bag (which I had borrowed from the house in Anchorage) too short, too hot, too constraining. I tried opening up the bag and sleeping atop the foam, but found the texture irritating. I was reluctant to discard the foam pad for fear of the years of accumulated dust I anticipated on the mattresses.
I was trying to suppress my sneezing, coughing and snot blowing for fear of disturbing my downstairs neighbors. And to top it off, Sheila, at 3 different junctures, barked loudly and lengthily at a dog roaming around the cabin. I heard Lolly try to shoo the dog back to the beach. Eventually it went away.
