We all know I'm a sentimental fool, but I don't know as though I've ever cried at both the arrival to and the departure from camp. It's been a few years since we've been able to make it to this special place belonging to my family. Homesteading and farm life make for tricky all-seven-of-us-trips, that's for sure. And then you add the schedules of a busy and large family, and well, it gets nearly impossible to all get away at the same time and in the same place. But we did it this year, partly due to January scheduling and my stubborn insistence, and mostly due to the arrival of Andy, who so wonderfully held down the fort for us at home. What a blessing! To have all of my people alone in the woods, away from any distractions from friends, activities, or cell phone bars (hallelujah!).
I forget that I'm really good at vacation. Like really, really good at just sitting still when the opportunity arises (and this time, with hardly any knitting, there really was a whole lot of just sitting). I let that vacation feeling linger just as long as I could, which is great, because this Monday morning brought a broken laptop and a dropped truck engine (bye bye, truck!) among other things, all before ten this morning. But .....la la la, I can barely hear all that news, because of blueberries! fishing! boating! s'mores with my babes! guitars around the campfire! mossy green paths in the woods! And so many other things. Especially that golden light coming off the lake at sunset, shining onto the faces of my exhausted kids from all the hard work and play of camp, soon to head to bed by flashlight in the cabin, with pine pitch on their feet and bits of s'mores still on their faces. Yes, that. I'm holding that close. It's everything.
Friends, I wish you a lovely start to your week, perhaps with some bottled memories of your own special places lighting up your hearts!
