More than one way to go home

 This is my permanent home. I've lived in several Rochester area houses, but this is the constant: the cottage on Ontario.

Leah & I arrived with the kids about 6:30 pm and dished up dinner. I'm sticking our sunset photos at the end of this entry, though, as they seem to belong there.

Tuesday was grey and cool, so not terribly unusual for the lakefront. We took a walk around the grounds, found friends and distant relatives to catch up with, and threw stones into the churning waters.

See that far point? I told the kids the story about how one time Leah & I rowed a leaky raft there and back, when we were girls. 

The Lake never fails me. I think it missed me. 

 Apparently, they're tearing down the classic wood playground in favor of a new plastic one. I disapprove.

I know this is odd, but I used to gaze at those silos a lot. 

Good old play train. I'll miss you. 

 These two have been SO pleased to be reunited.

On the way home, Miles drowsed, "I just love my uncles and aunts and grandparents so so so so so so so so so so sooooooo much." Me too, bud.

This was our evening storytime location.

This photo feeds me. I can just hear it. 

 I fervently hope to spend more time here someday.

In the meantime, I will take every opportunity to breathe it in. Alive.