is there any more pie?

View from the cabin porch.

All winter Banjo Man, his brother and our two sons talked about “going camping up at the cabin”.

To say this trip had reached “epic” status would be an understatement.  Spending the night in the cabin up on the mountain in the middle of the woods had become something so exciting and wonderful and momentous that it had to happen, no matter what.

On a trip to North Forty, a camping/outdoor supply store in town, Banjo Man went insane and bought four cots, four thick pads for the cots and four fancy sleeping bags.  He debated about purchasing a generator for his sleep apnea machine, but the $1000 price tag convinced him to forgo the machine for one night in the woods.

In the meantime the Funny Grandson announced to his father that he was absolutely not going camping up in the cabin because there were bears and mountain lions up there.  He said he would stay home with Grandma (who wouldn’t sleep up there if you paid me $5000).

They bought candles and lanterns.  Son #1 bought some kind of night vision scope.  They debated endlessly about food.  I bought them a jar of instant coffee, just in case they figured out how to boil water.

The big day arrived and excitement was high.  And then…they decided it would be easier to just eat supper here at the house.  So I pulled out all of the leftover pork roast, potatoes, salad and lemon cake and we ate on the porch.  It was quite civilized and they all agreed it was a good idea to eat before heading up the mountain.

Then they packed up the car.

It was now 6:00.  PM.

Here’s the Funny Grandson pretending he is going along.  He wanted to send this picture to his mother as a joke (she didn’t fall for it, much to his disappointment).

There wasn’t enough room in the car for him anyway.

My grandson had never seen the movie “Babe” (the pig, not the baseball legend), so we made ice cream and watched tv (hurray for Netflix and the internet!!!) until 11 pm.  Then we chatted a while in bed before we went to sleep.  It was lovely.  And very clean.  With no bugs.  Or mice.  Or wildlife.

The campers were home at 7 AM.   They’d played cards and eaten snacks for most of the evening, they’d conquered the mosquito problem and they’d slept great in their new bedding.  They were grinning from ear to ear as they made coffee and eggs and bacon and toast.

They took showers.  And naps.

And they’re going to do it again next year.

Enjoying the view.

45 years old this summer.

They do have a good time together.

Walking up on the land.

They played golf.  Competed in nightly rounds of Canasta.  And went kayaking on calm summer mornings.

Banjo Man is stuck on the beach.

We had dinner with friends from town.

Always a good time.

Relaxing hours on the shore.

The best way to spend an afternoon.

Lunch at the Pie Hut, the purchase of an old wooden milking stool, the cleaning out of the office, numerous trips to the dump and the Pantry, exploring the “treasures” in the lower basement and lots and lots of laughter (much of it centered upon the Funny Grandson).

Good times.

When Uncle Will arrived a few days ago, the Funny Grandson could finally (a) learn to fish, (b) build a campfire, (c) eat s’mores, (d) kayak and (e) jump off the dock.

These were all things his busy (and somewhat tired) father and grandparents kept putting off.   The Funny  Grandson never gets tired, you see, and can go from 7 AM to midnight with boundless energy, good humor and constant conversation.

(Yes, he is very much like Banjo Man).

How to bait a hook.

How to cast a line.

How to wait patiently.

We couldn’t believe he sat still for so long.

Uncle Will, the Austin pit master, looks pretty happy, too.  And this was just Day 1!

No brisket in sight.