Tomorrow we'll be there. Wading with unbelieving feet into the quiet warm lake and watching for loons.
Today is packing up batches of no-knead bread ingredients, and bringing the recipe for my gramom's famous lemon cake and, this evening, a documentary on manhattan's beloved red hawk, Pale Male.
Pretty sure I probably won't get much sleep tonight. We are leaving at four am. I love getting up in the dark and feeling that jolt of excitement, dressing in pretty, comfortable things, putting on a pair of special earrings and curling a purple scarf around my shoulders, swiftly getting the car packed with the piles by the door, having a last chat with the houseplants and the cat, and making a quick cup of tea to take with.
We'll bring the confused, warm-from-sleep dogs outside to jump into the back of the wagon and settle onto their plaid comforter. We'll nestle ourselves into the chilly car and turn on the news, joining the people on the radio already awake and perky, and turn the volume down low. I'll kick my shoes off as I pull down the street in the grey dawn and follow the signs a few miles to the turnpike, and then we'll really be on our way. Only two roads to follow till we hit canada.
See you when we return!
*photo by somer