A Little Piece of Heaven

It’s only fitting that my first blog be about The Cabin.  Regardless of what my WW (Wonderful Wife) might say, I do not love The Cabin more than her.  And, I do not love it more than my kids and grandkids. Everything else in the world?  Maybe so.  Okay, probably so.

I wish everybody could have their own little piece of Heaven.  My WW says it has added at least 10 years to my life.  We’ve been married 47 years – my WW and me – and The Cabin and I will celebrate our 20th anniversary this year.  About 19 years ago on a stressful day at work, I decided I needed a break.  Told my secretary – you could call them that back then – I was gone.  That was code for “to The Cabin.”  She knew where I was headed, but she didn’t know when she would see me again.

So, I escaped. Just like that, I was gone. Even the Atlanta traffic didn’t slow me down. I do remember calling my WW on the way.  She answered with “you’re on the way to The Cabin, aren’t you?”

It’s about a two-hour drive to my little piece of Heaven, but it seems like it takes six hours to get there.  But even the drive whittles away the stress.  The Cabin is in middle Georgia on a little known lake.  It’s on about seven acres and cannot be seen from the road.  Those are the only directions you’re going to get because it’s wonderfully quiet there, especially weekdays, and I want to keep it that way.  I once went for five days and four nights and didn’t have to speak to anybody.  Absolute bliss.  My WW just cannot relate to that.

The Cabin became part of the family almost by accident. WW and I were in a boat with friends, motored into a cove and saw two large homes for sale.  Those two homes were the opposite of my desire for a retreat – way too big, sprawling with sweeping decks, three levels of bedrooms. Nice but not for me. I already had a nice home in Roswell. Directly between these two homes, however, was a vacant lot loaded with trees.  As our boat moved closer, I realized the vacant lot was not vacant at all.  Nestled under the thick trees was a small log cabin.  For Sale sign on the dock, and my heart started pumping.  Twenty-four hours later WW and I knocked down the spider webs and opened the front door.  One look inside and we faced each other and said simultaneously, without a lot of hoopla, “This is it.”  Very soon after, it would join the family and become The Cabin.

The Cabin had been closed up for about two years before being rescued.  Squirrels had found their way inside, couldn’t remember how to get out, and gnawed the wood around window panes, apparently trying to escape.  The gnawed window panes remain today; some things in this world just don’t need to be fixed.  Wildlife also made lunch of the cedar two-by-sixes on the lakeside porch, creating a nearly perfect semi-circle at the top of the steps leading to the porch. Some things in the world need to be fixed so that semi-circle soon disappeared, replaced by other full length two-by-sixes and a screened porch to keep the varmints at bay.  But outside changes to The Cabin have been few and far between since then.  After all, how do you improve on a little piece of Heaven?

And, about that day I left work in search of some time without stress?  Well, I bought a dozen minnows at the four-way stop 6.5 miles from The Cabin, eased the jon boat into the lake, cranked the small 15 Merc, and anchored mid-cove.  Opened a lawn chair in the jon boat for a bit more comfort as a slight breeze positioned the boat for a perfect view of The Cabin.  Two hours later I gave a dozen minnows their freedom. I had leaned back, closed my eyes and never even put the fishing lines in the water.

So it is at The Cabin.