Last time I was at the cabin, it was really, really cold.
The lake was buried beneath a sheath of snow. The deck was invisible.
The fridge didn't need to get turned on, except to raise its temperature, and the oven offered a lovely secondary heat source.
This time, we won't need the elements for heat. We'll have running water. Maybe sip our coffees on the deck. And the rhubarb slush. Meanwhile, we'll be snacking on Roselle's cheese scones, Kathy's tabouli and spinach rice salad, and looking forward to Mary's morning cinnamon buns. Laura might bring a few dozen boxes of crackers from Costco, Amanda will be gracefully, serenely mixing up something gourmet on the side, and Carol's contribution will likely have an international flare.
Wine will flow. Tongues will wag.
It'll be hilarious, as always.
Once a year the female descendants of the late and great grandfather and grandmother Kehler gather together for a crazy sleepover with limited amounts of sleep. While our grandparents' whiskers would likely curl at the liberties that the generations have coloured us with, I like to think they'd be pleased to think of us all together.
Laughing and learning into the future.