Okay, so before leaping into moving-hell with both feet, my husband and I went up to my family's cabin for the long weekend. It's on a small lake about an hour outside Vancouver and it's a pretty old cabin. My grandfather built it when my mom was a little girl.
Granted, it has slowly gained a few *luxuries* over the years (like hot water, a shower and an upper floor with double bunk-beds so everyone doesn't have to sleep in the same room in sleeping bags) but I was actually kind of irritated by the latest change.
The wood-burning fireplace had been replaced by one that uses propane.
Okay, there's a good reason for it... *insurance*, but if you know anything about west coast Canadian weather, you'll know it rains a whole heck of a lot here. Half the time when we go up to the cabin, it pours the entire week and we all just sit inside reading... but the smell of the wood burning fireplace STILL made the trip worth it for me :)
Thankfully, we had nice weather this past weekend, but to feed my fire-loving-needs, we had campfires every day outside on the beach.
So, Sunday afternoon, I was sprawled out on the cool grass with my beagle curled up beside me and my evil black cat asleep on my stomach, their tiny bodies keeping me warm. The only sounds were the lapping of waves, the chirping of birds, the rustling of wind through the trees and the snap and crackle of the fire... and its gloriously smoky scent.
That, my friends, was a perfect moment.