THE CABIN...

Just walked in the door with just a sliver of Saturday left... all day I found myself antsy and anxious, wondering when I would find a minute to post a blog, I can't drop the ball on day 2... that would be, in the words of Quinn White, "lame sauce". I am cutting it close, right down to the wire as usual, but here it is, as promised:)

It's been a long day, a very non-weekend-y day, nonetheless it was spent doing good things. We actually spent half the day taking a little road trip up to Big Bear where I was doing some singing and such. As we were driving through the pine tree covered mountains, I had somewhat of a deja-vu moment...

When I was a kid growing up in Arizona, my Grandma and Grandpa Woods had built this cabin in a little town called Pine. There was a time that nearly every weekend we'd hop in the van, listen to the "When Harry met Sally" soundtrack by Harry Connick Jr. and drive two hours North up to the cabin, especially in the summer months to escape the heat. The cabin might have been my favorite place, everyone was there, grandma and grandpa, cousins, aunts, uncles... oh and the dogs, lots of smelly dogs. It wasn't very big, there was a large one bedroom loft upstairs with four beds and a balcony where us kids liked to attempt to sleep, of course only making it halfway through the night until we got to cold, or scared. Then there were a couple sleeper sofas downstairs, and ONE singular bathroom that was ALWAYS occupied. There was hardly an inch of open space to be found, with sleeping bags laid out all over the floor... and the dogs. Yep there was a whole lot of family squished into the cabin, there was chaos, it was mayhem and I loved it.

Boredom didn't exist at the cabin. There was the tire swing that swung over the green belt, long walks along the side of the dirt road to collect rocks that we would then tumble and shine, adventures down fossil creek to catch crawdads, night drives through the forest to search for Elk, trips into town to the closest Wal-mart to buy fabric, beadazzler and puff paint, hours at the dining table making useless junk with the glue gun, shooting cans with bee-bee guns, sitting on the porch watching the hummingbirds line up on the bird feeder and the traditional hot chocolate and bisquick pancake breakfasts. It was like a never-never land, a happy escape from reality.

It's been quite a few years ago now that the cabin had to be sold. My grandma was devastated, we all were. And though it will never be the same, I told her that someday I would buy her another one. I just need to sell a few more records first...