The View From Here

Do you notice my son’s jacket-less torso and his hat-less head? It was sunny and close enough to warm this afternoon that we could walk slowly toward the lake, meandering from one interesting stick to the next interesting puddle. You won’t hear me make any predictions about the end of winter, but also no complaints about such a lovely Chicago day.

The View From Here

Well, there actually. We returned yesterday from a perfect week in western Illinois. Thanks to some generous friends who insist we use their cottage, our family has developed a wonderful rhythm of rest and play every summer. We’re glad to be home but you’ll have to forgive our occasional daydream about the lazy days back at the cottage.

Bridge over the Illinois River, near Lacon, IL.
Bridge over the Illinois River, near Lacon, IL.

The View From Here

Each summer for the past few years our little family has retreated a couple of hours west of the city to a friend’s cottage. There we spend a week together  cooking, exploring, swimming, and swinging in the hammock. Also, reading. That last activity requires stacks of books – no e-readers for this family – and so a trip to the bookstore is always in order in the days before we leave.

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That’s Eliot getting a jump-start on one of his selection in the basement of our favorite used bookstore, Powell’s in Hyde Park. His mother was poking through the mysteries and I was choosing a couple of  P.G. Wodehouse paperbacks. All signs are pointing to a great time at the cottage.