Jon and I spent the fourth of July weekend in Island park, where my grandparents have the most peaceful, relaxing cabin. It's the type of place that has me itching to sit around campfires, and go hiking, and eat some fudge and saltwater taffy all year long. And it's the type of place that would elicit this sort of interaction: Dad: "Kids, what's been your favorite vacation that we've ever been on?" (hint hint: Africa would be the correct answer, as we were on our flight home during this conversation.) Austin, frankly and without hesitation: "The cabin." Sorry Dad.
Anyway. It was a lovely trip and just exactly what I needed. Some quality time with my pops and grandpa and aunt and uncle, and dear friend Rachel. That being said, it was a tough trip too. My first time there without my grandma. Gosh, I miss her. I miss her so much. She kind of made the cabin, you know? Probably you don't know. But it was weird without her, and just not quite the same. But nonetheless, it was still a lovely trip, and here is a bit of proof that I was there: