There was a thick, rancid smell as I opened my front door. It was the first time the door had been cracked since early Friday morning, and the fuzzy strawberries and stinky bowl of pasta were strong reminders that I didn't have time to clean up before rushing up north to enjoy the long weekend.
Growing up, we'd spend a lot of time 3.5 north of the cities. It was (and still is) my uncle's cabin. It's the place where I learned how to drive a boat, bait a hook, remove a fish from my line, play tag in the woods, and enjoy everything nature had to offer.
This past weekend, I was able to share my Uncle's cabin with little man. It was his first time fishing. His first canoe ride. Countless hours were spent hitting a plastic ball off of a tee, chasing around butterflies with a net, and soaking up heat from our campfire. Words truly cannot express how thankful I am that I was able to afford him those experiences. I look forward to our next cabin excursion...the three and a half hour drive each way is worth every minute.
2 days ago