It's a place so full of good memories, spanning about as far back as his memory serves him. His Grandparents have lived there for ages. He lights up as we gain elevation during the uncomfortably long drive there. (4 hours if the stars align just right) I am always a little hesitant to go. You know - keeping tabs on small children in someone else's house and around lethal drop-off cliffs, there is some hassle involved. But Mr Renn is always beaming in anticipation, and I do love the company, and so I am really pretty quick to consent. And there's always the excuse of cutting more firewood to help get them through the winter. They need it; they can't do it themselves; it gets people up there, and we are always glad. We had an especially nice evening visiting with Renn's Grandma this last time. She may be the best storyteller I've ever known. And she is full of stories, true ones. Next time I'm bringing my mp3 recorder and filling it up with her. Because we will be back, any chance Renn can find.
And here's a treat, I managed to catch this just minutes before we left last week:
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