I’m absolutely excited for this long weekend. Not only does it mark another year with my Husband M but we are going to Roche Lake.
Roche Lake is where I spent a good part of my childhood. My parents managed the place when it was just a fishing camp. I was Laura Ingals but on the lake. I had one length hair down to my waist and yep wore braids.
I’d get up at 5am to go fishing with my dad before he had to work, I learned to tie flies, chopped wood (just don’t tell my mom) explored, rode my bike, swam, skated, tobogganed and we played and played … I’m talking FREE PLAY
Hours and hours hanging out on the dock learning to dive, trudging thru the marsh/bog “froggin” and thinking they needed to procreate more so we’d try to make them sit on top of each other.
I get to share this almost sacred place (in my mind) with my daughter. I want to take her to where I’d sit with bread crumbs spread around me waiting for the big fat marmots to come close – maybe they’d eat from my hand one day or at least close enough to let me take a picture.
I want to take her to the stream where my glasses fell off my head while I was on my tummy leaning over the edge of the bridge. Somehow I blamed my brother – he made me turn my head afterall.
I want to share stories at the end of the day with my husband like the transition from camp to resort when 15 A frame cabins were built, hydro wires being strung along the roadside to the resort, being snowed in days, being on fire evacuation alert, and the day the payphone was installed at the lodge when I was in grade 7. I could hear that phone ring while listening to Casey Kasem’s top 40 in my room, I’d burn down the hill and catch the phone by the 7th ring. So many memories.
Let’s hope the weather cooperates. I will take loads of pictures.
I hope A catches a FROG!