Yes, we made it down to Roundrock yesterday! The last day of my four-day weekend when I did not go to Kentucky because of the snow and ice but when I did feel mostly recovered from my wicked head/chest cold. (Let’s not talk about the run I attempted on Sunday evening.)
I had no agenda for the visit, no chores I specifically wanted to tackle (though there were plenty that could have been tackled). I had no hikes planned. No naps planned. No round rock collecting planned. No sitting in the sun planned. And I had no plans not to follow no plans.
I hadn’t been to the cabin since December 26, 2014. That’s nearly two and a half months away, which is both unprecedented and criminal. I was afraid of what I might find. That mice had overrun the cabin. That the dam had washed away. That all of my neighbors had sold out. And so on.
Nothing of the sort happened, and when we came down the hill through the trees and saw the cabin before us, all was right with the world (at least these 80+ acres of the world).
What did we do? We sat around. We hiked around. We liberated a few cedars from their earthly toil. We threw the stick for Flike. We ate lunch. We sat some more. We hiked some more. We soaked up the sun a lot.
And then what you see above happened.
My most excellent son-in-law, Travis, had done the holiday gift buying this year because my daughter, Rachel, was 8.5 months pregnant and wasn’t getting around very easily. Among the gifts his clever and generous mind came up with for me was a hammock to use out at the cabin. I confess I was skeptical. I’ve never done well with hammocks. They tend to either dump me on the ground with the slightest provocation or refuse to release me despite the greatest effort.
Libby insisted we ought to give it a try, so we took the tiny bag it was in (about the size of a grapefruit) out to where some suitably placed trees were and got to figuring out how to put it all together. It couldn’t haven been much easier. Three parts. No knots. No tightening straps. Just find two trees and string it up.
I guess getting into a hammock must be like jumping into a turning jump rope. You have to time it right and approach with the correct stance. Libby and I were not so lucky at first. We fumbled around. She finally managed to get in and could then barely get out. I got in and eventually rolled out. But we strung the hammock betwixt two other trees so we could have it higher off the ground. This was a better arrangement, and once I got it, I did not want to get out. Ever.
I’m already looking forward to a suitably warm weekend when I can sleep in the hammock overnight. Seriously. It was that comfy. The orange thing you see peeking over the top of the sides in the photo above is the bill of my cap. The rest of me was wrapped in the fabric, which I could easily close over me. I might want a blanket for my sleep over, and I’ll probably take off my boots for that, but otherwise, I was cradled and comfy.
Putting the hammock back in its stuff sack was just as easy. So now it sits in the cabin, waiting for my return.