Three Generations at the Cabin
Most folks head south when the lake freezes solid. I went the other way — back up north, where the winters are long, the neighbors are few, and “the cabin” keeps pulling us in.
For us, the cabin isn’t just one place. It’s a patchwork of little properties where Gramma Connie and Mike spend their summers, where Davy and his family live year-round, and where I’ve put down roots. Jess and Chris circle back, along with cousins, aunts, and uncles. Three generations now gather here — fishing, freezing, laughing, and keeping an eye on each other, the way it’s always been.


“Up here it’s cold, a little lonely, and exactly where we wanted to be.”