#cabinlife

If you live in Minnesota, it’s likely you are less than .0001 degrees of separation from someone that owns and enjoys a cabin somewhere in this mighty, beautiful state.  Honestly, if you don’t own one (or second place, own a camper), you feel a little bit like you have cheated on your own state, it’s people, it’s traditions.

*gasp* I am one of those cheaters.  

But, I know I’m also not alone here!  And this story is for those of you that A) like to laugh and B) want to know if you can do #cabinlife, sans the cabin.  The answer is, spoiler alert, YES, to both.

Now, I feel as though cabin life, (inclusive of fishing) and deer hunting, rival one another for the #1 spot here in the land of 10,000 lakes.  Thankfully, my husband does his part to make up in the deer hunting portion for our family, so, WHEW. (We’ll save my insights on being a hunter’s wife for later…I’m still in the thick of that season and have ZERO sane perspective right now to embark on the topic.)

So, cabin life.  Something that, from my perspective only, looks like this:

• Own two places of residency (one happens to have water, I get it, this is a big pull for folks)
• Two lawns to mow
• Shoreline to maintain
• More beds, bathrooms, etc. to clean
• Pack up belongings in your car on Thursday night, so you can make tail like crazy people on Friday and get out of dodge
• Get in said vehicle, and drive with 10 million other cabin-bound people on the three roads leading out of the Minneapolis/St. Paul area
• Drive for hours, in stop and go traffic, to reach said-destination, to unpack all the belongings.
• OH!  I forgot at some point: before, during, or after the drive, get all the food you need for said-cabin.
• After unpacking belongings (while you open the door 47 times to let the state bird MOSQUITO and it’s entire family into your cabin), you enjoy a quick trip to fish, ride around the lake, some cocktails, or, just call it a night
• In the morning, you tend to aforementioned “more things to do” list

Look, just typing that out, in that tone, I’m liable to get us kicked out of the state.  I probably need to change my home address for fear of consequences and repercussions.

Listen, I LOVE ALL YOU CABIN PEOPLE.  That is just my head-space on cabin-ing.  Some of my most beloved are cabin (or, a-hem, “glamping”) people, and they have a social media highlight reel that brings me complete joy to watch them, in their element, in the great up north/outdoors.  It’s just not my thing…that list above is merely the ‘short list’ of why we (hubby also has definitively declined cabin ownership, to my total surprise, but for some of the same reasons) opted to not own a cabin.  

However, my curiosity piqued in the last two years, as friends of ours procured gl-ampers, and I met a couple of new colleagues who were deep into cabin-dweller-ville.  I thought to myself, look, a bazillion Minnesotans have to be on to something here. What is it? What am I maybe missing? So, I listened.  

Over the course of the “cabin season” I listened to the stories of “putting out docks”, campfires, boat rides, fishing, sand bars, “lake families”.  I looked at the pictures: snuggles, relax, smiles.

I haven’t lived under a total rock my entire life, so I have been to a cabin or two.  I re-examined my memories of “what did we do while we were there?”. Well, we ate, cocktailed (sometimes a little, sometimes a lot), cleaned up from one meal while we planned the next, played cards, sat in chairs and talked (inside or out), went on the boat, wet a line, sat in the water…so while there is the proverbial ‘to do list’ – there was also a lot of, well, chill.

There is no sense of “must run to Target to get that one thing we can’t live without”.

There is no squeeze in three birthday and two grad parties into a weekend.  (My observation of cabin-people: “We love you dear one! We’ll send a thoughtful card and cash, and see you next week at Betty’s house like we always do!”  Huh. Still going to see you, love you, and yet, not have to attend #allthethings. Well, that’s an approach I hadn’t thought of…)

There’s no “Oh, no, sorry, friends/family/loved ones of mine here at my cabin, I can’t play/do/be that thing right now with you, I need to go inside and do “X” (insert some time-sucking chore indoors that you are zero percent are interested in doing, when it’s gorgeous and sunny and warm and bathing suit-meets-yummy-smells-of-sunscreen, aka not blizzarding for seven months weather screaming GET YOUR BUTTS OUTSIDE PEOPLE!)”.  

You live in a state of mind, more so of “sure, sounds good, let’s eat second breakfast (I love Hobbits) on the deck and drink four more cups of coffee together, start up our card game from last night and talk about life”.  And think thoughts like, “how early, is too early, for a White Claw?”.

So, I did an experiment.  I decided we were going to give cabin-life a go (wait for it): AT HOME. (Insert gasping and gnashing of teeth, cabin-peeps, but stay with me here.)

First, it required laying some groundwork: I had to tell my crazy-lady idea to my husband, who looked at me as though I had lost my mind (one more time).  But, he was intrigued and played along. My plan, and first attempt at cabin weekend would be a major one: Labor Day weekend (look, much of my research and analysis occurred over the course of summer, so it didn’t all come together until Labor Day weekend – don’t judge, people).

I outlined what I had heard / observed my fellow cabin-folk people do, so we, too, would prep for the ‘cabin’:

Somewhere between Wednesday night and Thursday night:

• Mow lawn (Mike).
• Grocery shop / plan / prep for the weekend, and some semblance of food we would need the following week (Kim).
• Clean house/52 pick up/whatever version of clean my OCD self needed it to be that day, going into the weekend (who doesn’t love walking into their cabin, left fresh and clean from the last time we were there?!). (Oh, you know this is “KIM”)

Friday afternoon/early evening:

• Work, per the usual.  However, one of us (ME) wrap up an hour or so early, because we are “cabin-people” and we want to get on the road “early” (minus the whole packing of all the belongings thing).
• Family is all home by 5ish.
• Fill up pools (it’s no lake, but it’s water and splashing and cooling off in the heat).
• All swimming attire/sunscreen/bugspray is in a cute little tub by the sliding glass door to the deck, and one tub in the garage as well for good measure.

That’s cabin weekend prep, in a nutshell.

Friday night we “arrive” at the cabin.  And, here’s what we did, for three days:  Whatever we wanted.  And laughed. And chilled.  And, the end.

I have so many memories of that first weekend, I could tell you so many stories of the amount of relax with my family that occurred.  As a very “task” oriented person, I don’t do “chill” — and it was glorious to simply “be” with my family and do whatever the mood pushed us to do.

There were multiple things that almost thwarted this cabin-weekend execution.  There was the impulsive moment where I almost drug us away from playing and off to Target (for something of zero consequence); there was the laundry moment (oy); there were the two instances for Mike, and going to do some “outdoorsy” things; he was sure he was going to sink our happy little cabin ship, to which I joyfully said, “Go forth!  Be outdoorsy! Isn’t that what cabin people do?”. His facial expression was priceless.

So, here it comes.  The trick.  The secret.  The, “how did you maintain your chill, when your tasks and projects, are staring you in the face?”:  

As a RULE, I would mentally check myself (if I was going to shift activities away from the general “hang out” ones): “Would I do this thing, if I were at a cabin?”  It’s both super simple and hard to do. If the answer was no – then happily I moved back to the chill.

At the end of it, it’s probably the same notion of “stay-cation” that people have coined.  In this case, it just happens to be wrapped around the culture of “cabin life” in Minnesota.  What I can tell you is, it is worth it. So much so, my girls asked for it in the weeks following.  We now set up our calendar for the year to reflect our cabin weekends. Given that people “cabin” year round (because there is ice fishing and snowmobiling, people!), we also have woven in some time in the winter as well.  

It doesn’t have to be expensive.  You don’t need a second mortgage. You don’t have to feel left out of our cabin-loving friends/family/loved ones.  Even in the city, you can get yourself to a park or a lake (there’s 10,000 of them…so if you can’t, you’re not trying) in many cases within walking distance.  We set up those little cheapy pools, or turn on a sprinkler in the backyard. Our deck is an extension of our house and we live there as much as we do inside. We set our $30 fire-pit in the driveway and wave to our “lake neighbors” while the girls ride their bikes, draw chalk pictures and we roast marshmallows.  It’s really that simple (and for a “doer” like me, can be hard!).  

Life is going to happen to you, or you can push back into that notion and make and LIVE your life. I’ve learned in recent years, the value of being diligent in reaching for joy. #cabinlife is one of my favorites so far.