A Hole in the Head that Fills the Heart

Well. It's looks like we bought a cabin up north. I'm officially Minnesotan after all these years.
We don't own it yet, so we didn't stay there this 4th of July, but this weekend they let us get in and do some preliminary cleaning and planning.

Yes, it's true, I need a cabin like a hole in the head.
When we got home there were a half a dozen fires to put out regarding bunnies and cats and fountains and deer eating hydrangeas and dripping basement pipes.

Bill was under the impression that the dripping basement pipes trumped the hydrangeas. These are the issues of a healthy marriage.

Two more words: laundry and weeds.

I got my stolen from a northern lake water lily into my fountain. Don't tell the DNR. And I got my first little pine tree transplanted into the yard. It's important to share garden plants between the cabin and the house. If and when water lilies and little white pines trees take over Eagan, I guess I'll be in big trouble. Until then it's good karma--keeps either garden from getting too jealous of my time.

Sometimes a hole in the head can be good. It just might let some light in. My husband is in love with this cabin. I love it too, but seeing him love it is special too.

My sister loves it. My niece loves it. My kids love it. That's a lot of love.

To the perfectionist, it will be an exercise in letting go. There is no chance or illusion of being in control of house and garden and cabin. I will need a higher power for this. That's okay, because I have one.

It means there will be cracked sidewalks and cracked paint.
And the deer will eat some hydrangeas.

And the kids will swim in the lake and swing on the swing.
And Bill and his dad will fuss with the ancient electrical system.
And my sister will organize the storage closet.
And one by one each of us will do what we want to do. . .
or not do.

And the light will shine through the cracks and the pines and the rocks.

Sometimes a hole in the head can fill the heart.