June, 18 2014

When you manage to get a hit in baseball, it actually feels like a home run, because it’s that difficult.  When you manage to properly use the key to your sister’s cabin, it feels as though you are committing a crime.  It’s that easy. (Actually, after not jiggling the key effectively, I made it easy by handing it over to my wife for a simple entrance.)

When my delusional sister provided a key allowing us access to her cabin and most precious of commodities, other than her husband and children of course, I felt as though the surreal became surreally cool.  The atmosphere is littered with the greatest of the five senses.  On the lake’s shore, I saw bald eagles swooping directly into my contact lenses.  Marveling at a father witnessing his son catch his first rainbow trout, I became increasingly hungry.  I touched the lake’s water and didn’t care if it was just above freezing before diving in it.  Smelling our dog’s waste, my nose crinkled with happiness when  stumbling upon it and gracefully disposing of it.  Hearing my wife beckoning for me to start the barbeque only means this spectacular day is rounding third base and heading home for the cuisine any person can provide from the lake or local grocery store.  At the “Hit it Here Cabin”, everything tastes great.