It’s official. This weekend we purchased a second home. We are the proud owners of a tiny house which sits on a channel which flows from a large lake in Indiana. Maybe the house is a bit run down and maybe it’s not very spacious. But to us, it is a dream come true. Our lake house.
At the lake house, the neighbors are friendly. Everyone has the time and the inclination to chat. They ask where we are from, they tell us our girls are so cute, and they holler, “Welcome to the lake!” as they wave to us from across the channel.
At the lake house, the bedrooms have bunk beds. This is apparently the greatest thing to ever have happened in Maddie and Katie’s lives, ever.
At the lake house, I am nervous the girls will fall in the water. I declare new family rules such as the you-can-never-go-down-by-the-water-without-Mommy-or-Daddy-ever-no-matter-what rule. Maddie and Katie nod their heads solemnly and this makes me feel a bit better.
At the lake house, we are far from home. The drive takes over two hours, and I am so content in the passenger seat with a book in my lap and a mug of coffee at my side. He drives, they watch a movie, and I read. For me, getting there is half the fun.
At the lake house, we are living on lake time. Turns out it’s the best kind of time. No work, no emails, no alarm clocks. The pace is slow and the day is long. No one is in a hurry at the lake house.
At the lake house, we can walk down to the park or over to the beach. Brave Maddie already climbed the monkey bars and joyful Katie squealed, “Push me, Daddy!” from the swings. The beach is sandy and serene and beautiful.
At the lake house, we are going to make memories. “Your girls are a perfect age for this,” a new neighbor told me. “They’ll grow up here, and they will love the lake, always.” I hope you do, Maddie and Katie. I hope you love it at our lake house, always.
At the lake house, we made our dreams come true.