Friday, September 7, 2012

The Log

In the time BC (Before Children) Jamie and I made traveling a priority. Ah, young love! In the time AD (After Darlings? Demons? Dudes + 1?) I hate to admit this, but we have not had a single vacation together. Zero. Nowhere. Nothing. (We are coming up on 7 years....) Heartbreaking to the couple who promised each other they would try to see every corner of this round planet- and show their children the wonders that exist outside their own backyard. Something just always came up, or off (a roof) or out (three children). Now- it felt- more than ever, we needed to really get away. More dreaming than being realistic, I typed "rental cabin. UP of MI." into my computer. A charming picture of a log cabin popped up. More dreaming than being realistic, I made an inquiry about any summer availability being left. A reply came back for the week leading up to Labor Day. More dreaming than being realistic, I inquired about the price. When the reply came back, I realized that my little dream could become a reality.

Lake Superior was our front yard.

Avery and Ezra (and then of course, Jay and I) started calling the cabin, "The Log."


In a word, it was: dreamy.  It was just what we needed.  To travel together.  To play together.  To be quiet together.  To discover together. To tuck the children into bed, and to be in a place where we didn't talk about what bill was due tomorrow- or what we needed from the grocery store- or any of the large or minute things that can clog up the day to day...we just talked.  ("Hey, I totally remember you!")  

Our beach.  I really mean ours. In the week away, I think I would be stretching the number a bit if I told you we saw ten people.  Which, was fine with us. We made sandcastles.  (Iris was nicknamed Godzilla as the boys watched in horror as she gleefully destroyed all of them.)  We hunted sand spiders.  We collected rocks we thought were pretty.  We scared fish.  We walked.  We swam. We played frisbee.  We kicked soccer balls. We ran races. We.

We relaxed.  (Avery is under there.  Snoring.  For hours.)

Really relaxed. 

We were lazy.  All of us.  No schedules.  No timelines.  No deadlines. No plans. 

Just about every evening ended with us around the fire pit.  Marshmallows. A whole bag.  

On our last night we went to a beach on the other side of the bay and said goodbye to the sun as we watched it sink behind the waves.  

It was just us.  

And our friend the moon. 

Have you ever been on a vacation and when someone asks  you how it was you reply, "It was great, but we were really ready to come home." ? We weren't. We could have stayed.  I guess that is the beauty and the tragedy of a vacation. It exists only for a moment until you can conjure the magic and the means to make it happen again. But then, its not really the same.  Its different.  This vacation, (hopefully the first of many)  was this small, precious, blink-of-an-eye time that- call me naive, really was perfect. After about two hours on the road coming back to Chicago, Avery asked if we could turn around and go back to The Log.  "I want to go back to The Log." he said. "Me too." said Ezra.  "Me too." Jamie replied.  "Me too." I sighed as we continued on our way back home. 


  1. It sounds perfect in absolutely every respect. And the best thing about holidays like this is how much everyone enjoys and remembers it in their own little way. Must have been meant to be in terms of timing and availability.
    We are really lucky to have our own little beach escape here. We call our version of The Log, The Bach. You'd be welcome to come and visit any time!

    1. Ah my sweet Marigold! That is an offer! You never know when 5 yanks might turn up! :)
      I agree though, about each of us having their own little piece of the pie- I love listening to what the boys have told their grandparents and friends about our adventure.
      It WAS meant to be, I really really believe that. (it was the only week of the whole summer we could have gone....) :)



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