I'm Kidding. Sort Of.

Do you know how people say that there is a little bit of truth in joking? That it's easier to say something without really saying it? I had a moment of this yesterday. We were at the cottage. For the first time since Scott was diagnosed with cancer. As a family. We fell into this familiar rhythm. Gracie played outside. Scott had a project. I cleaned the place up a bit, made a plan for meals and read on the deck. It was a very comfortable day. Actually, it was almost perfect.

I called my mom and dad. Dad answered the phone first. I asked him, could you do me a favor? Sure, what's up? I knew he'd say sure. He's my dad. And by this time mom was on the phone, too. I replied, could you go down to Madison and sell our house? We're perfectly fine here at the cottage. No need to be anywhere else. Of course I said this jokingly. Sort of. We have had amazing times at this cottage. We love it here. It's always hard to leave and go back to real life at the end of a weekend. But we do. And we always joke that we aren't leaving.

After all the air smells better up at the cottage. We sleep like rocks. We play hard. We have lots of friends and family join us. We have all of the comforts of home. We all have clothes and all our necessities at the cottage. Shoot. My toothbrush at the cottage is even better than the one in Madison. I know, buy another one. Simple, right? We literally can jump in the truck or car and leave. With no need to pack. See why I love it? The trees, the water, the campfires all make you want to stay. Work doesn't feel like work there. Being at the cottage is a retreat. Or a treat. Both I guess.

If you're ever up at the cottage, check our log book. The one we write in each time we're there. We always record who was with us. The weather conditions are noted. We write about our experiences. And I dare you to find a time that we don't sign off with the wish to stay. We love our lives in Madison, too. Please understand this. But If we had to pick, we'd probably all head north. I'm kidding. Sort of.