August 28, 2010
For the eight years we've lived in Maine we've heard about "camps". These are, most often, small and rather rustic vacation cottages that dot the shores of Maine's many beautiful ponds and lakes.
Where we grew up there were few nice fresh water lakes and no one I knew had a cottage. In Maine though it's common for someone who is part of an extended family to have a connection to a camp. Seeing that we have no extended family here we've never had those kind of connections.
Even so, we managed to snag a weekend at a honest-to-goodness camp last weekend, thanks to the generous offer of some friends.
The digs would be considered modest by most standards. The decor, furniture and appliances were all circa 1971 and we were without hot water. But compared to most of our weekend outings (under tents and three sided shelters) the solid roof, wood burning stove, propane stovetop, running water and electricity were downright luxurious.
Though Celine did say she would prefer WiFi to flush toilets. And I agree.
It was a wonderfully relaxing weekend away, tucked snug in between two difficult weeks. Those are often the hardest trips to make (it seems hard to get away when so much is happening at home) but the most important also.
Whereas we usually hike each weekend this time we rested. We wrote, paddled, read, ate, hammocked (is that a word?) slept and played games.
I was a perfect break in an otherwise tumultuous month.
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