For the Love of Naps

For 33 years my parents have brought me up north..which I know, I know, I am married to a man who is from "up north"...so our cabin is not "up north" to him, but it is one of my favorite places. We go the same week each summer with two other families. People come and go during the week...some miss a summer but return the next. I have not missed a summer yet.

This is up north.

However, our cabin is....hmmmmm...I think last night while we were playing Hearts we decided that the cabin is pretty much a glorified tent. The cabins have been around longer than we have been coming and they have always been dilapidated. The floors creak, the doors slam, everything is slanted, and sandy. The smell you remember as soon as you step foot into the cottage. It is NOT a cozy place. But like my sister said, "If the walls could talk..." they would tell stories of past summers and interject deep belly laughs over ridiculous fun with wonderful friends.

That there is "our cabin."

We have gone from renting a small motor boat, bringing up my dad's sailboat, to now enjoying my dads fishing boat. Both boys enjoy driving the boat and casting their poles out to catch a fish..if they are lucky.


The sand at the cottage is almost like dirt...maybe it is dirt. By the end of a fun, sunkissed day one's four year old face might look like this. My first 24 hours at the cottage are lived cringing at the site of the boys digging, falling, playing in this sand. But after 24 hours I let go of my anxieties about the dirt and grim and just relax...looking at them being boys.






Their journey as brothers has begun here this year. Charley knows this place and is doing many of the same things I did as a little girl. Jumping off the dock, searching for minnows, digging in the sand, eating oreos, laughing with friends, and crashing at night - exhausted from funfilled adventurous days!