The Art Of Doing Nothing

“The plan is to not have a plan.” That is this summer’s mantra. And boy, have we taken that to heart. Our daily itinerary usually consists of lingering meals with family, jumping into the lake, and afternoon naps.

The view from Mike’s family cottage. 

My favorite spot at the property.

I have gotten a few slow runs in, which has probably been the most work I’ve done in a week, but other than that, I have become the embodiment of relaxation. Mike, on the other hand, has been busy with home improvement projects, which I think relaxes him the way cooking relaxes me.  I have to admit though, I was starting to feel antsy and was feeling the cabin fever. So I asked Mike to take me on a “date” and we drove into Malone to wander around Wal-Mart. That’s all it took to eliminate my restlessness and we both enjoyed our little, silly date.

But Little Miss Restless was still looking for work to do.  I can only cook so much, right? And it’s not like I have an army to feed here. So once Mike is done rebuilding the porch’s door, I have been tasked to paint it. Yay for semi-hard labor! I’ve also appointed myself to be on the look out for red squirrels, which I will brutally take down with a BB rifle. Apparently, these once adorable creatures creep into the cottage during the winter, and burrow through the pillows and mattresses. So shoot them, we must.

So our plan is panning out just the way we want it to. We do some house work, if any, in the morning until the early afternoon, followed by a nap, in preparation for afternoon beers and family suppers. Life can’t get any better than this.

My ever reliable macho man carrying the canoe over to the lake. 

Out on the lake with my silly wellies. 

I am a happy girl. 

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