During the summer, we spend most weekends at my family’s summer home in the White Mountains. Every summer, since I was a wee one, Memorial Day announced the “opening of camp,” as my dad puts it. For almost every other weekend (even “closing”), camp is fun, relaxing, and basically just a place to chill out and slow down. No phone, no internet…bliss.

Now, opening weekend is…work. It involves raking copious amounts of leaves and debris- we close up between October and May, so there is a lot- scrubbing counters and cabinets, chopping wood, and basically making the place liveable in a few short hours. Aside from the physical labor involved, it is also A. black fly season and B. quite cold at this time of year. We spent all of Saturday and some of Sunday working, covered in woolens and bug spray. By the end of the weekend, we were dirty, tired, half frozen, and bug-bitten.

The reward?

Cozy nights by a campfire-perfect knitting time.