Object Post #3

Loon Lake is located in Vergas, Minnesota. It is owned by a lady named Donna and her husband Mel. These two have known my family for many years, and its to their resort that we take our yearly vacation ever since I was born. It is here that my fondest childhood memories spark from, and a certain object of my grandfather's that I will never forget.

Tied between two perfectly spaced trees is the hammock. It is connected by two small trees that are planted right in front of the lot marked Bill and Dorothy Mohr, my grandparents. Anyone who would come in to dock their boats on the lake had to drive past their trailer and the concrete ramp was just feet away. Laying in the hammock, Grandpa could watch people come in for the week and then leave just 7 days later. He did this every day for many summers in a row. He was always peaceful, just sitting in the hammock, catching a nap or just waiting for visitors to walk by to talk about how many fish they caught or the weather. Old peole stuff mostly.

For any kid, the hammock was a new play toy; an oversized swing if you will. The normal tire swing down the road or the rope swing by the beach just wasn't up to par. The hammock was a conquest, the first there was the one who got dibs. It was just perfect height for a small 7 year old to crawl into, lay back onto the plushy pillow and rock back and forth. Gripping into the perfectly weaved holes of the hammock, rubbing your fingers back and forth against the texture. Staring up into the canopy the outstretched over my grandparent's tan color trailer. Imaginations ran wild, of oversized fish that you would catch later that day, the smell of grandma's food wafting in the air below your nose. The sound of jet ski's going back and forth, causing waves to crash upon the shores. Everything is perfect, until you hear it. "Jennifer, get off it's my turn!" The arguing begins between sisters, the excuses of who's older and who deserves it more spurt out of both mouths. Finally, Grandpa comes stomping up the road from his dock, pushes us both asides, lays down in the hammock, and the fighting of who gets the hammock, is clearly over.