I've been Up North for a week now, though it's been a weird kind of week. I left Nebraska in the wee hours last Friday and arrived at my parents' house in the afternoon. Their house closing is today (or was, this morning) and when I walked into the house, LOTS needed to be done still. I may have had a small panic attack. So instead of spending any time in my Scamp, cleaning it out, getting rid of unwanted squatters, I left the Scamp in the driveway and spent the next few days packing the parental abode.
Saturday, the Scamp got new shoes. Three new tires to celebrate its 10th birthday. I don't know why putting new tires on a vehicle is so unbelievably unsatisfying (I had to get new tires on the Jeep over Christmas), but it is. Usually preventative maintenance makes me feel self-righteous, like I should be rewarded for doing something I should be doing anyway, but that's not now I felt with the tires. Oh, well. Thank you, tax return.
On Monday afternoon, Galway, Maeve, Scamp and I drove the hour east towards the Cabin, where I plan to spend the bulk of my summer, working on my comps. I backed the Scamp into the driveway with no problem, slightly disappointed that there was nobody around for me to crow about how good I was at backing up the thing. It's Friday now and it's not all unpacked yet. No rush, really.
To say that the Cabin is sacred space doesn't quite cover it. My grandparents built this little place the summer my mother was pregnant with me and it's been the only real constant place in our lives, since we moved a lot when I was a kid. We did spent 17 years in Nevis, but there was a lot of moving before and since. This is the physical place that holds my greatest memories. And there's nothing better than to wake to loons. They're very helpful to sing away burnout.
I don't have any specific plans yet when I'll take the Scamp out, but I do have that gift certificate for the MN State Parks. I think there will be some Practical Scamping going on, as my parents move to Minneapolis and we move Gram to her new nursing home down there, but those plans aren't set yet either. For now, it just feels really, really good to sit on the couch at the Cabin, with tea and pajama pants, watch the trees and the lake, and read.