The Males of Holiday Ranch

We males of the Fremont Pond family standing together on a trestle of two-by-fours that will soon be the roof of our lake pavilion. Dad has come up by the ladder. My brother and I have each gotten there by climbing, Ray with a purely vertical effort of his arms, gymnast-like, me more in a monkey-bars way, using legs and being upside-down briefly. We have stopped the arguing for a few moments because there is a little risk in standing on the roof joists, and some pleasure to be had, taking in the view of our lake from these tentative positions. Also there is something funny about the three of us rising out of the unfinished roof in three separate places like prairie dogs. The disputation rising out of our chests sticks in our throats and we say very little until Dad says in a scowling way that isn’t a scowl at us or at the banks or at anyone for a change, “Okay, let’s stop farting around and get busy.” And we do, with only a few automatic barks at one another. ~ March 4, 2008