Packing was always my mother's version of
Hell. I'm coming to think I may have inherited
this sad attitude as I make menus for twenty-five people and packing lists for my
kids. You see, at the cabin we must
snowmobile in. At first snowfall, the
gates are locked along with our convenience.
Thus, it becomes even more important to pack well and not forget a
thing. Thankfully our kids are old
enough now to think this is fun. I’m so thankful it’s them and not me hauling
everything up. But alas, this weeklong trip to the family cabin is universally
considered better than Christmas so it must be worth it.
Walking into a warm cabin, smelling the pine
plank walls does its job at welcoming us to our mountain haven. We unload our things and settle in for a week
of carefree enjoyment. Slippers replace
snow boots and I carefully unload our coolers and put our bags in
bedrooms. Gazing out the windows, the snow
glitters on the trees around us making it feel so still. The cold is biting outside, but it doesn't
bother us as we have a warm cabin and hot cocoa when it becomes too much.
The phone begins ringing signaling the need
for a snowmobile to gather aunts, uncles and cousins arriving. This is truly what makes the cabin so
wonderful. Teenage boys don't delay
throwing on snow clothes to gather family members and their bins and bags. A cheer erupts for each new bundled up face
as they walk through the cabin doors. Everyone finds a companion or two and
sets off having fun in their own way building forts, playing games and
executing snow packed adventures.
The kitchen. The kitchen is always busy at
the cabin. Cooking, and cleaning up for,
twenty-five people is a busy job, but no one does it alone. I start making a triple batch of baked ziti
and instantly have help from two sister's-in-law and a brother-in-law. This is where our fun is. We chop and sauté and talk and share our
lives. This time is special because we
don't have the distraction of regular life to stop our conversations. We talk about our lives, things that are
hard, and things we're thankful for. We
have serious conversations about dying our graying hair and lighthearted ones
about siblings’ quirks. We build our
relationships and whether we run out of baked ziti or not, we're all
filled.
Before bed my sister-in-law and I make
plans to go for a run. We awake to even
more snow than we arrived to and decide a snow-shoe to be more appropriate. My 9-year-old loves snowshoeing so I find him
and have him get ready. The task of donning our winter apparel and digging out
snowshoes is not without grunts and more time than expected, but like
everything at the cabin, it's worth it.
The new snow has dusted everything. Each cabin we pass covered in a fresh blanket
of white. The trees still cling to their
silvery coating making everything exude magic.
We start off into the forest between two cabins taking it all in. We can't help but comment on the beauty of it
all. Our bodies warm as we head uphill
and our breath more labored. We
encourage my 9-year-old and talk about everything. The sun starts to rise creating the most
beautiful pink sky. I can't help but
stop and take a picture.
We carry on until my 9-year-olds legs can't
possibly go any further then we head back to the warmth of the cabin. We're greeted with the smells of breakfast
warm and delicious waiting for our arrival. Our families awake and buzzing. Tonight is New Years Eve and it's no small
event in our family. Breakfast is big in
hopes of satiating people through lunch to the big family feast. I start early knowing the kitchen will soon
fill with other eager cooks. See, we’ve
built this tradition of cooking as many delicious appetizer-like dishes on New
Years to put a five-star restaurant to shame.
We all have a few things we do every year. Stuffed mushrooms and
date-nut bread are my staples joined by the baked brie, warm ham and cheese
sliders, salty perogies and specialty drinks provided by my sister-in-laws. My
brother-in-law Kedar is the only male to join and his contribution consists of the
“mystery food” which has thrilled and disgusted us over the years with things
like caviar, frog legs, oh-so-stinky squid and this year, roasted chicken
gizzards. Over the next four hours we’ve
got every burner on the stove running and someone at the sink washing mixing
bowls for repeated use.
When we’re finished all the wonderful food
is placed on the island in the kitchen.
We remove less-impressive items to get it all to fit and pose for the
yearly New Years Eve food picture. The
picture is followed by “oooohs” and “ahhhs” from hungry family members. We eat, we talk, we compliment each other’s
new food additions and savor the traditional favorites. It’s been a week of fun, laidback enjoyment
in one another’s company. Tomorrow will be a packing day again, but instead of
feeling frustrated and chaotic, it will be satisfying because we just
experienced the best week of the year.
Indeed, it was all worth it.
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