My husband and I share a dream. Someday, somehow, we would like to own a lake house.
My husband owns a boat, and it is his favorite place to be. He takes his boat, the Lukie 5, out on summer weekends and cruises through the local rivers and channels. Sometimes, when the lake is calm, he takes it out on Lake Michigan. You haven’t seen the city of Chicago until you have seen it from a boat on the Chicago River. The view will take your breath away. Music playing, cooler full of beer, friends and family aboard… to my husband, it just doesn’t get any better. So, the lake house dream started out as his dream.
Slowly, it became mine, too. I can see it in my mind. A slightly run-down cottage with a rickety screen door that slams with every arrival and departure. Bedrooms crammed full of bunk beds; the more people we can sleep, the better. A kitchen with a linoleum floor and a tiny table, perfect for late night card games. Perhaps a screened-in porch for reading and board games. Swimsuits hang, drying on the clothesline in the yard. If you stand on the far right side of the porch and crane your neck just so, you can peek around the neighbor’s house and see it. The lake. It may be hard to see, but it’s there. You can feel the lake breeze, can’t you? Crystal blue water, punctuated by wooden docks. There is our boat, swaying gently in the bobbing water. We’ll spend our summer weekends here at our lake house. Maddie and Katie, running down to the beach to build a sand castle. Me, lounging lazily in my beach chair with a good book. Our lake house.
Of course, this is all just a dream, a hope for our future. Someday, we say.
As we continue remodeling and decorating our new home, we begin to make piles in the basement. Garage sale piles, storage piles, and now, a ‘someday’ pile. The someday pile holds our recently discarded bedding, an unused dining set, and an old dresser. They’ll be perfect for our lake house. Someday.