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| S'mores over a campfire at Lake Kegonsa this afternoon |
Since the park we were planning to visit is so close by, we decided to go out there today to do a little lakeside grilling and some recon on campsites for next time.
Although the trip was not without its usual siblings-not-100%-loving-each-other moments, we mostly had a great time. I'm really sad to see this summer go. It has been so nice having the extra time this year to hang out with my kids. I feel so lucky and grateful to have had it.
Speaking of, this morning my friend Gillian Welch belted this number out of the ipod player in my bedroom as we were getting ready for our mini-adventure:
Wasted on the wayside
Wasted on the way
If I don’t go tomorrow
You know I’m gone today
Back, baby, back in time
I wanna go back when you were mine
Back, baby, back in time
I wanna go back when you were mine
And it made me think about the fact that over the past year since I've seen the New Englander, or the past two years since he moved away, I've felt this way soooooooooo many times:
Peaches in the summertime
Apples in the fall
If I can’t have you all the time
I won’t have none at all
And as a result, I haven't had anyone else:
Back, baby, back in time
I wanna go back when you were mine
Back, baby, back in time
I wanna go back when you were mine
But now I'm just plain tired of it. I've got to move on. I just have to. Enough is enough.
Of course, there will always be reminders...
There are songs:
Hard weather, drivin’ slow
Buggies and the hats in town for the show
Oh darlin', the songs they played
All I got left is the love we made
And there are camping related activities, which make all of us think about him.
But he's not here. And he doesn't appear to be coming back, so I'm just gonna have to stop, as I said in my post the other day, indulging the well-worn neural pathway that is thinking about him:
Back, baby, back in time
I wanna go back when you were mine
Back, baby, back in time
I wanna go back when you were mine
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