Two Saturdays ago, we tumbled out of our dark cabin and drove to the airport, all nine of us with eighteen pieces of luggage and enough beef jerky and other snacks of perchance to bribe even the most agitated of small children.Twelve hours later we had met up with our eldest son who had flown in from Georgia and we were coasting in our dual mini vans through the rolling hills of southeast Indiana. After filling three large carts of what we hoped would feed us for a week (it didn’t), grabbing the last burgers from Five Guys before they locked the doors for closing time (which tasted way better than dried and wrapped meat sticks), and driving back to the airport to pick up grandparents, we cruised another hour or so (who’s counting at this point) down unmarked and winding narrow roads to our AirBnB tucked within the woods. We stumbled out of the vans, briefly hugged our eldest daughter who had just driven up with her family from Texas, and loaded up the groceries into the kitchen and so…
© 2024 Keri Mae Lamar
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