Ahhh...it's early morning on The Lake. I am trying to make it out onto the porch with a steaming cup of coffee without waking anyone else (not as easy as it would seem considering the rusted coils of the extremely long spring that is part of the screen door leading from the kitchen to the porch). All I want to do (and need to do in order to be pleasant until the next morning) is drink at least one cup of coffee in an uninterrupted and quiet sitting. As I step out onto the porch I see my mother-in-law's back as she sits sipping her coffee staring at the lake below and beyond. I settle into the chair next to her and notice about 11 buzzards on a dock. Not a good sign. I snap a few pictures and then take a few sips. I whip out my current read and as soon as I flip to the right page my mother-in-law starts talking to me. I do the tight smile thing (the one where no teeth are showing) and flit my eyes back and forth from page to face to page...hoping to passively get the point across that I would like to READ. Like most situations...passivity didn't work.
I went back inside to refill my mug and after pouring the coffee and adding the cream I went for the sugar...only I methodically (and, obviously, still comatose) opened the refrigerator, opened the coffee can, and scooped out a spoonful of coffee grounds and poured them into my doctored coffee. Had I been ALONE this would have been one thing, but, as luck would have it my mother-in-law was watching all of this practically with her chin upon my shoulder. We laughed and laughed like two good buddies who now have a secret..."what happens in the cabin...stays in the cabin" (only inside my head I'm thinking back to the buzzard omen and can only think Alfred Hitchcock thoughts).
Ultimately the time came for me to put on my bathing suit. It only took me 27 minutes due to the fight I had with the flimsy "pads/liners" inside my bathing suit top. It was like orthroscopic surgery trying to untwist, straighten, and align those things using only the tips of two fingers through the 1/4" slit in the top corner. All this and I was going to wear either a cover up or a life jacket the whole time! I swear!
Now for the fun part: skiing! Note to all you athletic people out there: Just because someone (ME) doesn't WANT to do something doesn't mean that they (I) CAN'T! I am quite content to sit and ride and watch and apply sunscreen. I love taking pictures of all our your stunts. LEAVE ME ALONE!! To get everyone off my back I finally jumped into the water and got up on the kneeboard (on the first try thankyouverymuch). So there!
One night my husband set up a projector so that we could watch a movie outside against the white wall of the cabin. We had rented The Bucket List and were excited about watching it. I thought it was going to be all about living but in actuality it was all about dying…dying via cancer and chemo. This hit way too close to home as my father-in-law's mother just completed her first round of chemo treatments last week. Awkward moment.
Right now I am sitting on my bed in the lake cabin. Both kids are jumping from room to room without touching the floor (they are doing so by jumping from bed to bed). My son takes pride in his death defying leaps while my daughter is a little more fearful and whiney. After multiple attempts I had to play the grown up card and tell them not to jump on the furniture. The guys are outside doing whatever it is that guys do; searching for koozies before they start to work on another construction project. Roo is beside me sleeping away.
I have to admit it…lake living is relaxing (in a “don’t have everything you need” kind of way). It never fails that being away from home (i.e. being away from the ever imposing black cloud of things to do) allows me to really “allow myself” to relax. I relax when I’m at home but I always feel guilty about it (of course, as I type these words I am developing the anxiety ridden bubbles in the top of my stomach---I can feel them trying to float their way to my throat…I am ready to drive until I run out of gas…my daughter is the reason for it this time. She is on the bed next to mine and she is trying desperately to gain my sympathy and attention (which I am refusing to acknowledge). She is huffing and puffing and curling into a ball and kicking her legs…she is whining and sighing…finally her brother walks through and asks, “What is wrong with YOU?” She tells him that he accidentally hit her in the nose and it really hurts. He tells her he is sorry and I tell them both that I am going to go out on the porch (which I do not want to do). "Why?" my daughter asks. And I say because it is not relaxing in here. Immediately she jumps off her bed (healed!) and skips off to the next room.
I have b.o. despite applying deodorant and I have played “guest” to my mother-in-law's “Dr. Phil.” All I want to do is eat Vanilla Wafers and sleep in soft pajamas. But I’ll settle for Jack Daniels and damp shorts.
I went back inside to refill my mug and after pouring the coffee and adding the cream I went for the sugar...only I methodically (and, obviously, still comatose) opened the refrigerator, opened the coffee can, and scooped out a spoonful of coffee grounds and poured them into my doctored coffee. Had I been ALONE this would have been one thing, but, as luck would have it my mother-in-law was watching all of this practically with her chin upon my shoulder. We laughed and laughed like two good buddies who now have a secret..."what happens in the cabin...stays in the cabin" (only inside my head I'm thinking back to the buzzard omen and can only think Alfred Hitchcock thoughts).
Ultimately the time came for me to put on my bathing suit. It only took me 27 minutes due to the fight I had with the flimsy "pads/liners" inside my bathing suit top. It was like orthroscopic surgery trying to untwist, straighten, and align those things using only the tips of two fingers through the 1/4" slit in the top corner. All this and I was going to wear either a cover up or a life jacket the whole time! I swear!
Now for the fun part: skiing! Note to all you athletic people out there: Just because someone (ME) doesn't WANT to do something doesn't mean that they (I) CAN'T! I am quite content to sit and ride and watch and apply sunscreen. I love taking pictures of all our your stunts. LEAVE ME ALONE!! To get everyone off my back I finally jumped into the water and got up on the kneeboard (on the first try thankyouverymuch). So there!
One night my husband set up a projector so that we could watch a movie outside against the white wall of the cabin. We had rented The Bucket List and were excited about watching it. I thought it was going to be all about living but in actuality it was all about dying…dying via cancer and chemo. This hit way too close to home as my father-in-law's mother just completed her first round of chemo treatments last week. Awkward moment.
Right now I am sitting on my bed in the lake cabin. Both kids are jumping from room to room without touching the floor (they are doing so by jumping from bed to bed). My son takes pride in his death defying leaps while my daughter is a little more fearful and whiney. After multiple attempts I had to play the grown up card and tell them not to jump on the furniture. The guys are outside doing whatever it is that guys do; searching for koozies before they start to work on another construction project. Roo is beside me sleeping away.
I have to admit it…lake living is relaxing (in a “don’t have everything you need” kind of way). It never fails that being away from home (i.e. being away from the ever imposing black cloud of things to do) allows me to really “allow myself” to relax. I relax when I’m at home but I always feel guilty about it (of course, as I type these words I am developing the anxiety ridden bubbles in the top of my stomach---I can feel them trying to float their way to my throat…I am ready to drive until I run out of gas…my daughter is the reason for it this time. She is on the bed next to mine and she is trying desperately to gain my sympathy and attention (which I am refusing to acknowledge). She is huffing and puffing and curling into a ball and kicking her legs…she is whining and sighing…finally her brother walks through and asks, “What is wrong with YOU?” She tells him that he accidentally hit her in the nose and it really hurts. He tells her he is sorry and I tell them both that I am going to go out on the porch (which I do not want to do). "Why?" my daughter asks. And I say because it is not relaxing in here. Immediately she jumps off her bed (healed!) and skips off to the next room.
I have b.o. despite applying deodorant and I have played “guest” to my mother-in-law's “Dr. Phil.” All I want to do is eat Vanilla Wafers and sleep in soft pajamas. But I’ll settle for Jack Daniels and damp shorts.
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