The Summer Kitchen

There was a place where anyone who was cast off from society, who found themselves on the shit end of the stick, who were looking for a closer relationship with God, or who just needed a place to unwind, could land and just go ahhhhh….

It was like stepping back in time, oh a hundred years or so, because we didn’t have any of the modern conveniences like electricity or cell service. We had to rely on people coming up the trail to inform us about things going on “out there” in the world. Sometimes they were even accurate! Other times it would be weeks or even months before we found out that they lied, or embellished.

And then there was Heidi. This amazing woman was always working. She always had coffee on the go. And, since everything was made on her brake drum stoves, of which she would usually have two or more going at the same time, she would wander into the forest with her bow saw to get the firewood needed to keep everything humming along. When she wasn’t doing that, she would be cleaning, preparing something for dinner, or doing laundry in 5 gallon buckets. I don’t think she ever slept.

It wasn’t uncommon for us all to be up all night, just talking and fellowshipping. One of the reasons for that was that people would regularly show up late at night after spending all day to get there. And of course, Heidi would pour them a cup of coffee and we’d have to stay up to catch up on everything.

It was always quite an eclectic group. We had David and Heidi of course, with a few of us who actually lived there, but there was a constant stream of people coming and going, especially in the summer. We even had Chad Allen, base player for the Guess Who. A few weirdos who were weirder than us came and went. There was Rick Robertson who was hiding from some bad dudes in the city and he was a pretty dark character. But he was always willing to jump in and help with anything that needed to be done.

Cross on a tree as you came up the trail.

Just taking a break from the tons of work that always needed to be done.

As I write this I’m getting kind of misty eyed, missing the simpler times of not having any money but feeling like the richest man on the planet.

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