Splish Splash

Another 4th of July, come and gone. I washed and dried 33 towels today, (yes, I counted) and probably an equal number of t-shirts and athletic shorts. Our cabin was like Grand Central Station as my children came and went, fitting us in with their other holiday activities. Some now come with married friends in tow and our usually casual sleeping arrangements seem a little primitive for either pregnant or recently delivered female guests. Throwing a musty sleeping bag on a Naugahyde couch just doesn't do it. Of course, no sibling coordinates arrivals and departures, beds or canoe use with another one, so it's pretty much every man for himself. Throw in two grand babies and it gets pretty tight. Next year I need to get a flashing No Vacancy sign with a maximum occupancy posting beneath it.

One thing that has helped is our outdoor shower. First, a little background. I had a picture from Pottery Barn that I showed my handy husband. Would he build it for me? It was a simple and environmentally pleasing apparatus. A minimal shower, it's delicate pipes camouflaged by ivy that beautifully wrapped around the tree and the plumbing. Laughing little children were standing under the shower head on a small circle of pea gravel under a canopy of tree branches. Matching towels in coordinating colors hung in an aesthetically pleasing row, (100 % cotton of course) and large sea grass baskets hung from the trees with wonderful potions, expensive soaps and exotic lotions.

I knew my vision was in jeopardy when I saw my husband and two sons unloading 16 sheets of corrugated metal. Next, an old septic tank lid was resurrected from behind the shed and placed on the ground. Huge walls of metal were built around the concrete lid and industrial strength fittings and faucets were installed. One son went down to the gravel bar on the four wheeler. He returned with stinky river rocks the size of softballs and artfully arranged the gravel around the septic tank lid. Oldest son almost lost a toe when a razor sharp sheet of the metal was dropped on his foot. Benches and shelving were constructed out of cedar beams from a barn that had burned to the ground. "I knew we could use those beams somewhere. That smoky smell will fade after a while." Someone got the plumbing mixed up so my husband wrote Hot and Cold in ball point pen. Voila. My outdoor shower.

We love it. Next door neighbors know a Wagner or Wagner guest is showering by the steam coming out the top and the bare feet coming out of the bottom. Raggedy beach towel hang in a row and Suave Shampoos, Dial Soap and disposable razors stand ready for everyone. One city guest was a little rattled by a friendly garden snake who joined her at the septic lid. A favorite game is throwing ice water over the top on an unsuspecting bather. Gets em' every time. There is always someone singing at the top of their lungs. Curious dogs happen by for a scratch and a drink. There is always a steady stream of towel wrapped family, coming in from the back door and heading to their respective rooms. We don't dwell much on formality at the river. I knew my son-in-law was one of us the first time I saw him wandering through the cabin, wrapped in a pink and white beach towel.

For me, the best time for the outdoor shower is at night. The moon is overhead, the crickets are chirping and the water is steaming. All is quiet. It is solitary. It is one of the most peaceful places I have ever been. Those times on that septic lid are ones I will remember when I am old and counting special moments. There are just some times you know God is in his heaven and all is right with the world. Showering under the stars is one of them.

Pottery Barn, eat your heart out!