One of these days I’m going to remember that any time we are invited to the family cabin for the weekend, it is a trap. Cabins are not restful places. They are neglected properties with a never-ending to-do list attached to the front door. Granted that’s not the case for the kids; for them the cabin is a labyrinth of new doors and closets filled with at least a couple generations worth of toys. All miscellaneous, all incomplete, but all new and interesting to them nonetheless.

Ali’s dad and I spent the day sawing down huge dead trees (one of which nearly took out his eye, but that’s par for the course with him), cleaning gutters, blowing pine cones and needles off the roof, clearing overgrown brush, and a host of other fun things. I consider our rent paid for the month now.

While up on the roof I had four bald eagles come circle the tree tops right above me. As they squealed to each other the ducks nearby took off running across the water.

Look at Lowe’s chunky little cheeks. His face has changed in the past couple weeks. Don’t know if it’s due to all the new teeth or the insatiable appetite, but both of us think he looks like he is moving into little boy territory all of the sudden.