Amber Murphy Strikes Again

As many of you know, it’s been a rough few weeks. OK, months. But I was finally feeling better and the outlook was bright.

Until we decided to chance the unthinkable last weekend: The Family Roadtrip. It had all the makings for an amazing getaway. Jamie scored us a million-dollar lakeside cabin in the mountains.
A cabin that has Tim “The Toolman” Taylor as a neighbor. A cabin where celebrities have stayed and left their mark. OK, maybe the janitor on Scrubs ain’t exactly A-list but work with me here. At least the place was extra clean.


We invited Grandma and Grandpa along (a.k.a. babysitters extraordinaire). We would hike through the verdant fall foliage, play with their numerous kayaks and water toys, and explore the quaint mountain hamlet.

And then It happened. My life. That same Amber Murphy life that plagued my travel-writing days. With allllll those unfortunate events that made my readers tune in regularly to find out what else could possibly go wrong this time.

Jamie couldn’t get off work until later so Linda and I decided to make the two-hour drive earlier in the day. That way, the kids could nap during the drive and we’d have plenty of time to get settled. Brilliant, right? Yeah, if they’d actually slept.

Undaunted, we still made great time and arrived at the cabin. We unloaded the kids and luggage and made the long trek down the steep ramp to the cabin. As we stood at the doorway, I did a victory dance over how magnificent it all was: the gorgeous cabin, the shimmering water, the fragrance of fall.

And then I tried the key. The same key I thought belonged to the cabin. The same key that turned out to be one of two keys that Hunky Hubby had received from the owner. Unbeknownst to me. I later found out I had in my possession the garbage key. How utterly convenient. While the house key sat on our kitchen counter, two hours away.

And so It began. My life.

(To be continued. When I have the strength to relive it all….)

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