Stix & Stones

We have two major problems on the island (well, three if you count the always present logistical problem of getting anything on or off it ) erosion of the shoreline on three sides from the waves caused by boats' wakes', and the large piles of wood & other debris with no place to put it. The biggest pile actually has the demolished old outhouse, complete with toilet seat, various hand towel dispensers and other detritus.

So this weekend was spent putting a dent in both problems. We figured out that, if I started hoisting rocks from the lake bed up on the edge of the shoreline, eventually it would become a smaller version of those old stone jetties we had on the beaches when I was a kid. (Probably now those same jetties would be politically incorrect, and I'm betting those that haven't been boardwalked over now have, besides the Danger signs, maybe a rubber coating on the sharp edges, and soft playground sand to land on if, in the unlikely occurence of a kid actually fishing or playing on them, he should slip -- oops! is "he" too gender specific?). Ow, these run-on sentences and digressions are giving me a headache!

Anyway, I spent two blissful days hauling and heaving rocks. Along the way, I re-learned a science fact I had long forgotten: rocks weigh less in water. At the same time it disproved "no pain, no gain". Lots of rocks, a pretty good start to our erosion plan, and no pain. And I stayed cool in the knee-high water, to boot.

Steven decided to burn the wood. Not knowing if woodburning was "allowed", we decided to call it a campfire, and practiced our mea culpas in case we should need them. By the end of the weekend, most of the outhouse was gone.

But the best part about owning an island is that there's very little government, policing or regulating going on in practice -- it's too hard for them to get there. Might just elect ourselves King and Queen, maybe secede from the Union...