Cabin Fever

It was simply wonderful and dreamlike.

In MN, we "Go Up North to The Cabin"--which generally means a place, 30-200 miles North-ish of home. There is usually "The Lake" involved too, although for my family it is "The River." We don't get to go up there as often as we would like to, but when we do it is always an ideal vacation for us.

I rarely take pictures. Sorry. You'll have to imagine it. 

The river was down again, after having flooded earlier this summer and covering nearly every dock along it, with the exception of our family's dock, because my dad is a little paranoid over it being up high "enough"--his paranoia paid off this year, so he was quite gleeful (most of the neighbors lost giant chunks of their docks, ours made it through without any trouble). 

I had to spend my 11th wedding anniversary away from my guy--he was on-call for work--but this was the next best thing to being together with him. The girls ran free for three whole days--no fences, and no worries. The area is like a ghost town in the Fall, with only a few year-round neighbors to watch for on the roads. Our street has a cul-de-sac, and the girls had a great time riding Grandma's adult tricycle, with Pickle in the back in the basket, and Boo working on her leg muscles to get them around. Grandpa and Grandma make sure that the kids have plenty of fun things to do, and built a little 4 swing/slide structure in the backyard, complete with 2 different kinds of tire swings. 

For me, it was a more relaxed atmosphere. While I did get out into the road and ride around on a pair of Rollerblades (hilarious, since I haven't been on any in 15 years), I mostly got to sit and chat (while knitting, of course!) with my dad and stepbrother, two of my other favorite guys in the world. I got to help with the taking down of a few trees that had wind damage, and pulling the pontoon out for the year. Somehow, the work was different from the work at home. I've never wholly understood that, but it's always true up there. Maybe because the work is shared? 

In any case, it's hard to come back home. While the hubby is gone, it gets pretty lonely around here, even when he's realistically only home and awake with us for 3-4 hours each night. The house feels emptier, somehow. The ease and luxury of the cabin (where everything is done by hand and there's little of what other folks might classify as "luxury"), lingers in my mind.