This weekend we spent a couple of days unwinding in the hills of the Blue Ridge Mountains in an gluttonously large cabin with a few friends. Although the intention had been to fill the place to its brim, I may have inadvertently booked it for a weekend that most of my compatriots already had filled with other plans. Nevertheless, I made sure to enjoy the commercial kitchen and hope to use it even more fully next year when I am able to entice a couple dozen more folks to come wander bits of the Appalachian Trail and spend countless hours on the covetous wrap-around porch.
The simplicity of spending time in a place that isn't yours, away from the concerns of the everyday. No laundry to do. No bills to pay. Nothing to fill your time except long conversations circling a few key themes. Time spent remembering the person you thought you would one day be and learning to appreciate the person you did, in fact, become.
Good food of the most wholesome variety. Relatively early nights. A chill in the air. Flannels and sweaters and inappropriate foot ware. One pretty adorable kitchen dance session. A harmonica lost to a rat's nest. The promise of doing it again next year.