For the first 18 years of my life I spent every summer in the mountains of New Mexico. My Mom’s family has a small, quaint cabin there that I have always considered to be a faded pink adobe with a red tin roof. It’s actually tan but in the mind of a 6-year-old wanna-be-princess it’s definitely pink. The cabin sits in a valley, surrounded by mountains, and filled with a little stream that is big enough to fall into, get completely soaked, and loose a shoe…or two.
Last summer was the first summer I did not go to the cabin in 18 years, and it was my Mom’s first summer to not go to the cabin in 39 years. (Big difference there huh? Wait. What? Oh, nothing…)
Needless to say, we are very excited about going this year.
Actually, “very excited” is an understatement. “So excited it’s hard for me to remember my first name” is a little more appropriate.
While we are the cabin we will do a number of things:
We will eat…alot.
We will go to Santa Fe, Taos, and other New Mexico mountain towns to walk through their markets, buy their pottery, eat their food…etc.
We will sleep.
We will hike.
We will sit on the porch and observe.
We will make s’mores.
We will make fires.
We will play poker. (And I will win…something that will definitely make the church bulletin.)
We will eat. (Again, and again, and again.)
We will not want to leave.
The Cabin is…well, it’s The Cabin. That is the best way I know how to describe it.
Today, we are spending the whole day cooking for the cabin for tomorrow we leave.
So far we have made Blonde’s (I made the blondes for obvious reasons…That’s right it’s because I’m 5’4″.)
And Mashed Potatoes…The mashed potatoes were made early so that we could take them to the cool mountain air, fry them in Panko, top them with sour cream, and then eat them. All of them.
You know, it’s a hard life.
While we’re at the cabin My Mimi does not live very far away, so she usually meets us in Santa Fe, or Taos for a day of shopping.
Which brings me to this picture…it was not taken at the cabin, and it was not taken at Mimi’s…it was taken somewhere in-between. At Dawson, New Mexico, an old mining town that still has some buildings, and a large grave site. It is the definition of “neat.”
I’m not sure how I got off on that rant…
Anyways, Me. Cabin. Tomorrow. Potato Cakes. Amen.
Peace, Love, & Come join us!
(But find your own cabin first because ours barely has room for me…I might even have to sleep outside. In that case, Can I come join you?)