I was going to write about when my dad took my sisters and I out to lunch. I had my post ready, set to publish, and -- boom. It just didn't feel right. It wasn't that it wasn't genuine, but the words and story got lost. You see, I wanted to write something special for the first week of your story, but honestly, because of my surgery, I've been cooped up inside on the couch, tired, aching, and somewhat miserable.
I haven't done anything glamorous or exciting this past week -- hey, I haven't even taken many photos. Truth is, I've been so busy with life that I haven't had much time. And what time I've had has been spent sitting on the couch with my foot elevated in a big 'ol boot.
But I thought back to Woodland, our early vacation in July, and wanted to share that. Because it's so much a part of my story. You see, every year, my whole family -- siblings, aunts, uncle, grandma, grandpa, cousins -- all go up to the lake. We stay at Woodland resort, a place that's been around since my mom was eight (when she started going). Small, quaint little cabins with the backyard a few steps down to the dock and a water.
We stay for a week, each year, and celebrate life. We celebrate family. We eat and fish and and play cards, we laugh loud and have late breakfasts and do silly things with water toys. We have campfires and game nights and days spent swimming, till your skin is red and your face freckled and sand squishes in your toes. Our days are filled and crazy and lazy all at the same time.
Each year seems better than the previous. More stories, more laughs, more life. Early morning breakfasts in Grandma and Boppy's cabin, with the cast iron pan sizzling with blueberry pancakes and sausages, while we play trivia games. Nights spent on the boat, the sun dipping below the trees and the sound of the lake and the smell of the air. In between moments when nothing special is happening, but everything special because the whole day is ours for the taking.
So, when I thought about Woodland, I wanted to write on that. Because it's good. It's not just a vacation, not just a tradition, but a symbol of our family. The turning point of the year. Of family and life and good food (because believe me, we eat good at the lake) and laughter and lazy days and love and adventures and generations.
And that's a little more of my story.
What's yours?
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Want to join? Post a photo of your week, your day, your month, year, or whatever it may be, and tell us about it. Add as many or little photos or words as you want. It's not the length, number, or amount that matters. It's the story. Your story. Grab the button, share your post, and say hello to another friend.
Happy Saturday!
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