So much goodness in our trip back home. My hometown is Chicago where I was born and mostly raised. But this little cabin on Lake Michigan is the closest thing I have to "coming home" from childhood. My family has had this place for 30 years. My little odds and ends from those decades are placed throughout the cabin and it was a trip to discover them again, and to see Zach discover them too. I remember when I would arrive as a kid the first thing I wanted to do was run over and have a porch chat with our neighbor Carol, and of course as Carol worked her magic charm on Zach he too needed to run over (by myself mama, like a big boy) and have his porch time with her as well. I still favor the sleeping porch as the one little bedroom, even when it's vacant, still feels like my parents room to me. How amazing to watch your baby sleep in the very spot you slept in as a girl.
Anyhow, the only thing missing was our
dear old sailboat. The one I learned to sail on. The storms last winter took her away I am told.
But the week was full even without the sailing. Full of cousins getting to know each other and fresh picked berries and local wine and board games and sandy bums and wave jumping and rock collecting and uncles and aunties and neighbors and old friends and bon fires and junk shops and storms and ghosts and memories.
I *heart* Michigan.
