closing up the cabin

 It's time, I think.   We ran this season all the way to the end.

 The lake is freezing quickly with these very cold days.  Why is it below 10 degrees in November?   Can we save that crap for January?

I guess not.

 We did laundry and brought laundry home, and emptied the cabin and swept up.  We'll have to clean again in the spring anyway, the dust and dead lady bugs, but for now, this was good.

That picture on the wall my mom bought for me at a garage sale back in 1988 when we first lived in our house.  It hung over the fireplace for years, and I don't know why I can't part with it, but I'm glad it found a home at the lake.

It's always kind of reflective on this last weekend while I'm cleaning and putting away, thinking back on the anticipation of last spring, opening the cabin up, all the fun we had, good parts and the bad parts, the things I never want to forget and the things I don't want to remember.   It's all there, this huge crowd of scrappy, rowdy people and cousins, the heat and the rain, the food and the fighting and the Clue and One Card Poker.

I tore the fridge apart and washed it all down.  We didn't have as many condiments to bring home this year as we sometimes do.   Jay still commented on how many.    As I was washing everything and loading coolers, I had a little impulse to conk him over the head with the Catalina dressing, but of course I did not.  But the image made me laugh a little.

 We cooked this big pot of chili on Saturday night after we got back from the antique shop and cruising the gift shop.  We didn't buy much of anything, but had fun looking.

And later eating.

 She snagged herself a little trip out of town with her old gang of buddies, Kari, Tim, and Julia.  If kids weren't coming to the lake she didn't want to either. But she heard they were, then yes.  They worked on art, slept late, goofed around.  It was peaceful.

 Kari sorted out this whole art/ game cabinet, cleaned and it's all organized and nice again after a whole wild summer of playing. I threw away ALL the nasty play-doh.  We'll start fresh next year.

And that's the end. Good night, Cabin.

The months will pass quickly by until we see you again.

Behave  yourself.

Love, Val and Jay and Every-darn-body