Here some things I am thankful for over Thanksgiving weekend, and will likely continue to appreciate:

- The cabin is sturdy. After four years, the cabin is still holding up. It was a bit of a gamble to hire Burt the (underappreciated) Builder but the structure is evidently well built. I hired him after I found his business card tacked to the bulletin board at the local farm store, and I don't think he had ever built a cabin this large. (He advertises himself as a handyman). But clearly he knows what he's doing. My greatest satisfaction is that the skylight doesn't leak. (Knock on wood).

- Trees have not fallen on the cabin. The camp is in the woods, and when the trees start blowing I have counted at least a dozen that could fall on the structure. But Bob the (reluctant) Woodsman cut down some dead ones two years ago, and we have had no disasters. Of course, Bob hasn't been back since to harvest the hardwood like he contracted to do, but we're here today to praise Caesar, not bury him.

- Gary the (energetic) Logger left a buffer when he clearcut the woods across the dirt road from me. I know, the clearcut is supposed to be a thing of the past. But Gary has leveled a piece of land the size the deck of an aircraft carrier. He left a few trees along the road, though, so I don't see the wreckage, er, handiwork.

- My vines are growing. In recent years I have put in perienniels, including a vine called bittersweet. It gives the cabin a real foliage look, though most real gardeners hate bittersweet. I welcome bittersweet, because it grows fast. As Mick Jagger used to say, it's only rock 'n' roll but I like it.

- The stove works great. The mightly little Jotul generates needed heat in the fall and spring. It might even heat the whole room in winter if the ceiling were lowered. But that decision is off in the future; right now, the stove heats a newcomer in less than an hour.

- My canoe didn't drift off toward Norridgewock. This fall the Sandy River rose about 8-10 feet after heavy rains. My canoe was safe on the bank, I thought, but the river rose so high that it actually moved the canoe. If the 16-foot-9-inch Old Town hadn't been secured to a tree, it would have been gone. I've had that craft for 14 years, and my season would have been ruined if the river had taken it.

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