The Joys and Not So Joys of Island Park...Ted's Paradise

We are two weeks into Island Park. On about day ten, Ted asks me, where do you think you'd like to live up here next summer? That is when I say, "Slow Down! We've only been here a couple days...let's just see how things go this summer before we go planning next summer."
He gave me a crooked grin, but I think he got the hint. We still have to see if I can make it through one summer in the woods, let alone two.

So, we saw a mama and baby moose just outside our cabin last night. We first saw them on the road by our house, and then they came up in front of our house as we were sitting by the fire. I jumped up and about ran into the house because they're huge, but Ted just sits there and watches them. Then he tells me about how they used to get moose up by their old home in Mountain Green. He says he'd ride a moose, because I compared them to big horses. Now that would be a sight to see.
He told me lots of stories about his Mountain Green adventures...if you haven't heard or experienced them, you should ask. They're great!
We only used about a third of the wood we chopped, and Ted kept asking if we should put more in the fire, but I told him to wait until his family came up, and then we would use all the wood, and need more. Garlings know how to build fires, big fires!
If you haven't read on Facebook, the dogs killed a squirrel (I thought it was a rat, but Ted informed me otherwise), and we gave it a fire burial after the fire burned down a bit. This got us on the topic of cremation. I don't know if that is how it is spelled, but after you die, you can get burned and put in an ern. So, I told Ted that since I am planning on being a donor, if it is possible, he can feel free to burn me. Now that it's in the records, nobody can fight over what happens to my body after I die. Ha ha...
Today we went for a Sunday Walk. Ted told me he needed some fresh air, and I could go with him if I wanted to. Well, we start out on our journey through the woods, and it is drizzling, which I can handle. Then, it starts to pick up, and my head is getting wet. So, Ted gives me his hat, but we keep walking. All of a sudden, it starts to downpour (at least for me, because I am from Utah and Idaho), but Ted says it is barely raining, and keeps trudging along. Pretty soon the dirt roads have turned to mud, and our shoes are starting to slip. Then, Ted pulls up the hood on his sweatshirt, and I know he feels it to. I think the reason he likes the rain is because he is from New York, and it really knows how to rain there.
Anyway, we get about half way around our loop, and there are little rivers in the road, and visible dry spots under the trees. I am half tempted to just stop under a tree, but then he would leave me there, and it might never stop raining, so I keep slopping along. Ted keeps telling me, "Just enjoy it babe, we're making a memory!" Boy did we ever, a good enough memory to actually blog about.
By the time we get back to the cabin, my hair is wet, his hat is soaked, my shoes and pants are muddy and wet, and I look like a wet rat (my hair likes to frizz in the humidity). Of course, Ted is all smiles, rain dripping from his hood and splattered on his sunglasses. Even right now, as I am typing this, the rain is coming down in a steady hum against the roof, and Ted is cooing at the rain.
All I can say is, Ted is in paradise up here. I don't think I knew what I was getting myself into when I agreed to sell our house in Arizona and move up here for the summer. From all indications, it sounds like he wants to come back, every summer, just for the experience. Guess I better get used to my mud boots, wet clothes, and frizzy hair, cause I'll probably be living in it.