I will be heading back to Northlandia this afternoon. As always, posts may be spotty in the next few days so be prepared.
I've now had the Cabin for 3 1/2 years and it has certainly been a treasure emotionally, if not financially. Reality has set in and I missed my permanent escape from Florida once the grand-kidlings entered the world. They are now as enmeshed in my existence as air itself. But man does not live by kids alone. He needs his diversions, namely a Yamaha Stratoliner that provides wind therapy, and a Dodge Custom 880 that embodies all that was at one time impossible. He needs a beer or Bloody Mary with friends, acquaintances or even alone if the atmosphere is smothered with comradeship. He needs a dark sky with twinkling stars and a gentle midnight breeze that rustles anything it touches. He needs to relearn the value of conversations peppered with thoughtfulness, insight, humor and a dollop of plain old silliness.
Upon entering the Cabin I will plug in the lighted palm tree and it will stay on until the day I leave. After that I will charge the battery to the camera. So begins another holiday in Northlandia. (Queue rousing music.) But, as always, nothing is as bad or as great as we imagine; while all looks rosy there will be a creeping reverse Stockholm Syndrome angst. The kids, of course, will be there when I return, but, what is it about our natures that as soon as we escape a place we soon begin to miss it.
To list the things I want to do seems at this point redundant. Time is short and I seem to have fashioned an enviable ability to extract the best of two worlds. It surprises even me when I think of the duality I have created. For as long as it lasts I will endeavor to enjoy all the people and the adventures each world offers. Life is short. Squeeze it like a goddamn lemon.