Pretty much all of these snaps ended up on Instagram at one point or another, but when it’s March, I won’t be scrolling through my Instagram account, I will be reviewing years upon years of being Up North at the Cabin.
The original plan for this weekend was 1. Marry Caitlin Off, 2. Go to a very belated Mother’s Day dinner at Butcher and the Boar, 3. Collapse from exhaustion.
We made it through Step 1 beautifully. And then last weekend I was informed that Billy wanted nothing more than to spend some time at the cabin.
I can’t blame him, since he essentially lives in the desert. Also, I wasn’t terrifically upset with cancelling our dinner reservations because work last week was busy-busy and I am about to start a big project. I’m excited about it, but a little R&R is not unwelcome.
Did I mention that we have another wedding next weekend? Because there was that whole thing too.
Anyway, all signs pointed Up North, because they don’t really point anywhere else. So on Sunday morning I peeled myself and my broken-from-dancing-feet out of bed, hopped in the shower at 6:00 AM and headed out.
The weather we had was frighteningly good. 80 degrees! Sunny! Only a few clouds! I basically spent the entirety of my time in a swimsuit/cover-up/not pants except for when we went into town and then I wore pants.
There was a lot energy dedicated to tanning on the dock.
I also spent an equal amount of energy encouraging my hair to blonde itself in the sun. Marcus declared that my hair was “white” when I came home tonight, so I think that it put its best effort in.
We went fishing. I caught nothing.
But Billy and Mango did. And after one catch, Billy declared the cost of his out-of-state license to be “worth it.” Apparently he managed to catch another one later on in the evening, so I suppose that makes the matter even more cost effective.
We went fishing again. None of us caught anything.
When the fish decide to bite is between the fish and God.
We ate some Zorbaz pizza on the deck.
Some people at Zorbaz pizza at midnight. And then others ate it for breakfast. It is an all-meals food.
I used my camo koozie. Because Billy was thoughtful enough to pack some tall cans.
Actually, I may or may not have packed three koozies and used all of them. It has sort of turned into a habit. The koozie collecting.
We watched some terrible TV before we went to bed (our TV is incapable of picking up anything normal and yes we have cable). Apparently there’s this new show about Alaskan Bush Country and it is just terrible. Terrible I tell you! But you really haven’t lived until you watch someone punch a trout to knock it out so that they can go bartering with its carcass.
I went for a run. And picked up some donuts from Reed’s.
Balance in all things, right? I know that Maple Bacon Donuts are 2011, but these people do the maple glaze right.
I sat on the porch and studied for the SPHR as hummingbirds waged turf wars and shrieked their displeasure at the fact that One Feeder Only was full. They are an entitled little band of feathered friends to say the least.
But by 5:00 PM this evening, this weekend ended as all weekends at the cabin do, with a haul back to the cities to rejoin The Real World. While I do have to say that this is a feat more easily accomplished at the beginning of the summer, it never truly gets better.
Nonetheless, here I am, sitting at our dinner table, typing and waiting for The Next Weekend to come.