Diana writes: "I came across this picture that folks might find interesting.
Standing in front the the 'log cabin' that my brother Jim Taylor and his friend Bob Bragen were building for fun is me (on the left) Arnon, Maria, Grandma Taylor and the little kid in front not paying attention is Carol Ann. The cabin was in the woods across the street from the house in Warners and up a hill. It was a hike - I don't think the cabin got any taller than it was - and I know they never put on a roof. I'm not sure if they ran out of steam, lost interest, couldn't figure out how to do a roof or got too interested in other things - but it sure kept them busy for a long time. This picture was hanging in the hallway of the Taylor house in MN and when I saw it I couldn't remember when I had stood in front of this and when it was taken - until my mom pointed out that the person I was looking at was HER and not me and that I was the kid with the hair and the funny pants! Just goes to show you how much like our parents some of us are."
The other log cabin was built at Otty Lake by Tom Kinsella. Boasting a marble floor filled with marble rocks swiped from the nearby marble mine, and a door and roof, it had at one point a cot and several of us spent overnights in it. In this picture are Jim, Chris, builder Tom, and our faithful dog, Corky.
4 comments:
log cabin building must be a Taylor trait
IMO - I think that the older Taylor men convinced the younger Taylor men to build these to keep them away from girls. LOL
I never knew that Jim built that one. Looked grand!!
I know that Tom agonized over how to roof his until he took a trip to Valley Forge and saw theirs , then he did same! CB
I like Jim's cabin. It's made of good, solid logs. Pat has used an old picture of my cabin, with the original roof that only made it through one or two Canadian winters before collapsing. I finished it around 1975. Several years after the collapse, my younger brother Chris helped me revamp the cabin and put on a new roof, much stronger. That summer I recorded a typical work day in our cottage log, so for the sake of complete and utter honesty, I present the entry here.
"August 21, 1986. Summer has nearly turned to Fall; it is cool at night, the colors are appearing in the hardwoods; the rain is heavy and constant. Still there is time for willing hands to work, and it will come as no surprise that Chris 'Let's work harder' Kinsella is raring to go. Today he woke up at ten and immediately made Tom join him in chinking the cabin. Tom had been up since seven-thirty, but he's a lazy slug and hadn't been doing much. As the rain fell Chris pushed Tom to mix batch after batch of cement. Tom's fingers cracked and split from the cement lime -- they began to dry into painful human-prune fingers -- but still Chris drove him on: 'Work is the essence of fruitful living, Tom; mix more.' Finally, well past dusk, the two young men broke off from their task. There was more work to be done, but then tomorrow was another day. Chris smiled and patted Tom's head as he rode piggy back to the old cottage on his older brother's back."
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