Okay, okay, about Christmas in the cabin: it was really nice. My mother-in-law brought the little plastic tree that we used last year and I fluffed and decorated it for an hour with the cute little ornaments that she had bought on her recent trip to Germany. Among the decorations was a set of small, pink candles and candleholders mounted on clips meant to be fastened onto several of the outer branches. I regarded them with suspicion and fear. I had heard several stories of how my mother-in-law's boyfriend had grown up in a very German household that upheld the mind-boggling tradition of decorating the tree with candles and actually lighting them on Christmas... I guess that's where our modern tradition of Christmas tree lights comes from. Since the in-laws had only recently spent time in Germany with some family members, I was wondering if their newly-discovered passion for all things German was about to reach a new, insane height. I took a deep breath and, with my back turned, asked in my most innocent tone of voice, "So, um... are we, uh... planning on lighting these candles at some point?"
"Oh, yes!" My mother-in-law answered exhuberently, "On Christmas."
"Ah," I replied, tremendously grateful that I'd thought to hide my face before asking. "How neat." I concluded with artifical enthusiasm, trying not to sweat. I was going to have to think of a way out of this looming disaster. Wooden A-frame walls and triangular pillars of flame do not mix.
Thankfully, the issue was resolved on its own when her boyfriend noted that the slanted walls did not seem to have insulation... fire-proof insulation. This put him right off the idea, though my mother-in-law pouted and simpered about it for the next couple of days. My husband's mom is the kind of person that brings to mind the phrase "like a kid in a candy store"... the point of interest being that the description isn't limited to one specific place or activity. Life is her candy store. As a result, she's often fun to be around, but not quite safety-minded enough for her own good... or anyone else's. Last Christmas, when she and my husband impetuously scrambled up the sides of a huge, damp boulder bordering a waterfall with my infant son strapped to her chest, I helplessly choked and spluttered admonishments at them, too shocked for words. Her boyfriend regarded me with a sympathetic smile as if to say, "I know, I know... but it's who they are. Don't worry, they'll come out of this okay. Somehow, they always do." He and I have exchanged many such glances over the years. Fortunately, her boyfriend is a lot like me in the "safe and staid" department. Meeting his gaze, I was able to relax a little as the people we loved most in the world teetered and slid atop the slick rock, holding each other and laughing like children while they cheerfully asked us to take pictures of their folly. But that was last year's Christmas, and I digress.
This year we also experienced our share of waterfalls and cliffs, though at Old Man's Cave and Cedar falls instead of last year's Cumberland. There was one perfect day when the weather took a turn for the miraculous -- mid-sixties and sunny -- so we donned our jackets, pocketed our cameras, and drove to the nearby parks to explore. The water flowed cold but unhindered by ice as it made its way over rocks and through valleys. The woods were surprisingly verdant with hemlock trees, firs, brilliantly chartruese mosses, and cheerful ferns that beconed welcomingly in the breeze. I observed aloud to my mother-in-law that the ferns, which trimmed the edges of nearly every trail we encountered, seemed rather like the cheerleaders of the forest. "Sis-boom-ba!" I recited, skipping a bit through a small clearing, "Welcome to our forest!"
She laughed, approving, and repeated my comment to her boyfriend. I made a mental note to write a haiku about my observation later, which I completed just the other day.
The Trails of Hocking
Bright ferns, cheerleaders
Of the forest, dance lithely
At the path’s edges.
Well, enough about that. After all, a picture's worth a thousand words, isn't it?
It was an amazing day. It had rained on most of the other days that we were there, so my husband and I got our wish of sitting around the cabin fulfilled. It even rained a bit when we were in the hot tub sometimes. Here's a view of the hot tub from our upstairs bedroom window.
The cabin was fairly secluded and surrounded by lots of private trails. We went out to enjoy them one evening just as the sun was setting. The scenery wasn't as dramatic as the state parks, but the sunset was beautiful.
While we were in the area, we also stopped by our favorite pottery shop, the Hocking House. It's owned and operated by a husband and wife who make everything they sell. The wife designs some particularly unique pieces based on plant life and I've been collecting her work since my first visit there four years ago. This time I bought a cute little cup and bowl set for my rice and tea.
I also beefed up my teacup and saucer set collection at a local antique mall.
The set in the back is the one that my mother-in-law recently purchased for me in England. The others are from the antique mall. The one on the left is a Wedgewood set, the one on the right is from Japan, and the one in front is Bavarian bone china. I usually avoid animal products like bone china, but since it's old and used I don't feel bad about it this time. :)
Well, that's all I've got for now... I need to finish knitting my Bella mittens!
1 comments:
Yay! Glad you're back. What a wonderful trip and the pictures are fabulous. See ya tonight!!
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