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Musings

  • There are few things in life more relaxing than sitting on a porch swing, listening to a hard rain fall on a lake, and reading a good book.
  • Either teenagers or raccoons raided the cooler we left on the cabin porch last night, because I awoke to find all of our beer gone.
    • I have a mental image of a couple of fuzzy masked bandits sitting up against a tree, a pile of empty Leinenkugel bottles at their feet, just talking about how great life is.
  • Canned, iced coffee just isn’t a very good substitute for fresh brewed.
    • But, in the words of one of my grandmothers, it’s better than nothing.
  • For a weekend at the lake where we tried to not haul a bunch of our camping stuff there and back, we sure seemed to haul a lot of stuff there and back.
  • Irish Woman and I have decided that we really like the little two room cabins at the state park we visited. If we were going to construct something like it for ourselves, though, we’d add a bathroom and a kitchen.
    • I don’t mind cooking outside, but the 15 minute walk, in the dark, to get to the restroom was less than optimal.
    • I know, I know, bear, woods, whatever.
  • At the end of these weekends, when everyone is trying to get out of the campground at the same time, I always wonder if the temperature and chemistry of the lake changes as a couple hundred coolers are either drained or emptied into it.
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