Tales of the Cabin – Part 12

It has been quiet through the winter months.  Too quiet really. I guess I should have expected that as we didn’t have the underground tunnel system yet and it has been a particularly bitter winter standards even by northern Minnesota standards.

I paused writing my diary entry and looked over at the digital thermometer by the deck door.

-41F — It was only late December and yet we were in the grips of something that the TV talking heads called a ‘Polar Vortex.’ Fuck, I’d call it the Polar Express as it just kept coming and coming.

The cold temperatures were putting our utilities under strain. The solar system was working at near peak efficiency in the bitter cold, but clear, skies. However, it was so cold that we all had our heat cranked up and running all the time which was pulling electricity for the blowers and gas for the heat all the time.

The one good/bad thing was that my office line hadn’t rang in weeks. Amazingly, in the middle of an arctic blast like this, no one was really thinking about moving to a nudist village.  It did have me thinking that we could open a nudist hotel or old-school resort.

It wouldn’t be like one of the monstrosities that you found in Wisconsin Dells or at the Mall of America. No, it would be small cabins rented by the week or season with mini-golf, a pool, and a watering hole.  I didn’t really want to deal with the county regarding a liquor license so I put a note ‘BYO’ next to the watering hole.

It’s only 5am. I should either crawl back into bed or start a fire and get the day going.

Twenty minutes later, the coffee maker chirped to let me know it was done.  The fire was cranked up and stoked to last most of the morning.  As the morning light started to build, I could see sparkles in the air.  Looking out the window, there was an ice fog that had settled in during the night.  The other side of the house was foggy as well but the smoke was settling down at tree top level in the intense cold.

There was a crazy part of me that looked out on the frozen wasteland on the other side of the glass door and thought, “Get a hot shower going and then run outside and make a quick nude snow angel and then run back in the house!” I quickly got a mug of coffee, started the shower, and left the cup of coffee on the vanity.

I walked back over to the big deck doors and looked out.  It was now or never.  I opened the door and my body immediately screamed NEVER! and with that, my crazy idea of making snow angels at -40F was over.

I decided I’d just luxuriate in the hot shower. I wandered back into the bathroom and adjusted the shower to be more like a tropical downpour with a heavy mist.  I took a drink of the coffee and slipped into the shower.  The bitter cold outside was now a distant memory as the hot mist and shower enveloped me.  I sat down on one of the benches and lost myself in thoughts of summer rain. It wasn’t long and my hand had slipped down, slowly tugging on my rapidly stiffening cock.

I leaned back against the glass and let myself enjoy the moment. The hot water combined with the cascades of steam were making me a bit sleepy but also had me worked up at the same time.

I closed my eyes and let my mind wander where it wanted. There were a couple of farm boys about a mile and a half down the road that came up in the summer to harvest the hay on the arable land and then came back in the winter months with a tractor and kept us plowed out even in the worst of snow storms.

Jackson and Brady Larson had returned home at the end of summer with degrees in agriculture. Jackson was going to be the brains and Brady the brawn.  In my mind, I didn’t care which was which.  Fraternal twins, they could almost pass as identical twins.

Lanky blonds, they filled out a pair of jeans like nobody’s business. Add the boots and cowboy hats to the equation and I was a sucker. It took all of my willpower to keep doing what I was doing when they came around.

What our compound was … was not a secret in the region. I had put out some feelers to find dependable but discreet people to help us manage.  The Larson boys had called and set up a time to talk to me about what they could help with around the community.

That’s how I got two strapping farm boys helping out with land and I’m not complaining.  They weren’t nudists that I had seen but they didn’t have a problem working on our land. I know they had seen more then they ‘should’ have seen but they’d never asked any questions or said anything in town that had gotten back to us.

 

 

Author: J. Ray Lamb

Author, weather nut, ham radio operator and avid reader about earth science .

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