When you go inside, don't be mad

Those were his last words to me before I left Duluth for my long-anticipated trip to the cabin. "What? Why will I be mad? Is it a mess? Did you and your buddies destroy the place this winter?"
"No, never mind, just don't be mad."

This is typical Don. Without him, there would be no cabin in the summer. With him, however, there is dirty carpet, dog hairs on the bedding, and the one I'll never let him live down, the ruined Martha Stewart cookie sheet.
What could it be this year? Visions of complete filth filled my head. Instead of just relaxing, I'll have to spend I don't know how much time cleaning.

Up the stairs to the deck - everything's the same - into the screen enclosure and unlock the door to the front porch - no changes here. Finally, I unlock the main cabin door and enter. Well, the furniture's been rearranged, but it looks very nice. Is that the surprise? No big deal. Hey, wait a minute! What is that huge thing in the corner? With dark metal edges and glass plates on two sides, it looks like the snake cage from the zoo and it's big enough to keep pythons; anacondas even. And it has what appears to be a fake snake habitat in it. What is this thing? As I walk slowly toward it, and notice the faceted, aluminum pipe rising from it and curving into and through the outside wall, I realize that I am now the proud "owner" of a gas fireplace, complete with fake logs. This fireplace idea of his has been run past me for a long, long time. "A fireplace would be great in here." "Exactly why do I need a fireplace in the summer?" "It will increase the value of the cabin." "First of all, I don't ever plan to sell it, and secondly my taxes are already going up yearly."

This is not the first time "The Donald" has surprised me with new additions. Much of the furniture in the cabin has nothing to do with me, nor was I asked if I wanted or needed it. Yet, now that it's there I love it all; the wing chairs, the sofa, a coffee table, the table and chairs, all of it. Well, not quite all of it. There is Don's favorite chair which I would happily leave on the side of the road with a FREE sign. It's a giant, blue recliner with families of spiders who live inside.
For many months after the new shed was built he asked over and over what I would be doing with the dilapidated, little green shed. "I don't know" was my only answer. The following year the shed had disappeared from it's aboriginal spot and had transported itself closer to the lake. It also had a new floor, a split wood interior, benches, and was sporting a wood stove. The shed had become a sauna. "Thank you for the sauna, Don. I never take saunas." "You will." I never have.
This creativity in managing me is part is part of the charm of "The Donald." He wants a fireplace. He runs it past me. I turn it down. He keeps bringing up the subject. Finally, knowing by that time just exactly how mad I'll be, he finds a bargain and figures he can put up with my harassment. So "I" now have a gas fireplace that everyone but me thinks is lovely. Every time I notice it I wonder how the snake is doing.