No new campers this week, but a few left. Deilia wasn’t one of them.
According to Sandi, Miss Jen told her to come Tuesday and she could start to make up the time she missed. She has to be helpful to the students in the current class and under no circumstances do anything to a keystone or other structural element.
There was an impromptu challenge at the lake today: craft a boat large enough for at least two people using only shells, seagrass and sticks. Sandi and I decided to try. We couldn’t convince any of our cabin mates or relations to help.
It wasn’t easy. There were no large shells. (I think that was intentional.) We got a frame made with the sticks and it was ok. We wove seagrass into big sheets to line the hull. We slivered the shells to work as tacks. Three layers of seagrass wasn’t enough to keep the boat from leaking. By the time we added five layers, the sodden material made the boat too heavy to float. Someone, not us, discovered that many of the shells contained a tacky substance. Everyone abandoned their current hulls, wove two new layers of seagrass and stuck everything together. The goo dried quickly in the afternoon sun and we had something truly watertight.
Of course, making the boat is only the first step. To be successful, you have to sail it. We’d crafted a small sail, but there was no wind to speak of, so we resorted to paddles crafted of sticks and more seagrass. They worked amazingly well.
Our boat didn’t win any prizes, but it was still a fun afternoon.
While we were weaving all those mats, Sandi explained some things about mazes. Turns out her uncle on her mother’s side (she’s related to Deilia through her dad) is a maze designer. She’s had a lot of practice figuring them out.
“Smell is important in some mazes, but Dee does it as a distraction,” Sandi said. “She can’t tell vanilla from chocolate unless she looks at it. The first thing you need to know about mazes like that is that the wind always blows in the same direction.”
“So if the wind comes from somewhere else, you got turned around.” That made sense.
“Exactly. And then the next step is to identify the scent of the place.”
“But everything smells of wisteria.”
“Do two roses smell identical?”
“No. Of course not.”
“Everything has its family smell and then its individual smell. You’ll always notice the family smell first. You have to pay attention to locate the individual smell.”
“Oh.” I began paying more attention to the seagrass we were weaving. The family smell was profound, but by the end of the afternoon I could pick up the individual smells. I started sorting different strands by which plants had born them.
Everyone else at the lake that day thought I was crazy, but Sandi cheered me on.