Hello friends! I’m writing to you today from my happy place on Lake Annecy in France. The girls are wherever they are, the dog is sleeping in the sun and the husband is out paddle boarding on the lake.
And me? I’m sitting here thinking about lake cottages and the many delights that make up a summer…
I grew up on a farm, but for the best part of every summer, we’d relocate to my grandparents’ lake cottage in Kosciusko County, Indiana.
Whatever “lake cottage” means to you - this house was smaller. Yet on any given weekend, the cottage would be packed with aunts and uncles and cousins and friends. It was a tight squeeze, but we could sleep upwards of twelve people, as long as the kids slept toes to nose and a few others were willing to sleep on the kitchen floor. When the early risers woke up to go fishing, the floor sleepers would move into their still-warm spots in the bed. And as far as I can remember, no one ever complained.
Every morning, I woke up to the smell of bacon frying in the cast iron pan. And every night, I fell asleep to the sound of the grownups playing cards (euchre) - slamming their fists on the yellow formica table, roaring with laughter and calling my dad out whenever he tried to cheat, which was every hand.
During the day, the little kids did little kid things.
And as for me, the oldest grandkid, I spent 14 hours a day in my swimsuit, catching turtles off the end of the pier and eating rice crispy treats, one after the other without ever washing my hands, not even once. When the turtles weren’t biting, I’d take long walks down gravel roads, collecting various leaves and flowers. And then before bed, I’d tape them all neatly inside my journal.
I’ve been thinking a lot about that cottage lately, because here I am - all grown up, with a lake house of my own. I can only hope our friends and family will be as happy as I was growing up.
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Yesterday, I wrote about The Summer of Small Delights. Would you care to join?
The idea is to recognise the small moments of delight sprinkled throughout your day - and then to write down three of them every night before bed.
You might find that after a few days, the benefit largely comes from recognising the delights as they happen, in the moment. But the writing-it-down part helps to turn that recognition into a habit.
It’s the difference between efficiency and slowing down long enough to recognise something delightful.
In truth, I find efficiency to be delightful, but I’m in France so that’s not a common occurrence. Beauty, however, abounds.
My three simple delights for today:
1. Spanish Cavaillon melons. Not to be confused with French melons or cantaloupes or muskmelons or anything else that looks the same but tastes completely different.
2. My new bicycle. It’s blue and it has a brown basket.
3. Summer thunderstorms. One blew in over the lake earlier this week and I had to stop what I was doing so that I could watch the drama unfold. The photo doesn’t do it justice!
p.s. If you know how to properly press and label leaves and flowers, will you contact me? That seems like a fun summer project. Bonus points if I don’t have to buy any equipment.
Love it, Laurie. Our own version of 'delights' is called LiPoVCe. The acronym is Czech but it means: what I enjoyed, what I did well, what I'm grateful for, and what I value in others. We've found it helps us remember the little moments.
Oh I love your 3 delights! Mine might have been the beautiful chocolate square I had yesterday! Hangin out with three tween girls! And hugging Gracie! Love your inspiration! Your lake house summers sound idyllic and the legacy you are building through our house and your writing is something for the books for sure.