My daughters and I were celebrating Fathers’ Day in August, a recent tradition they began when they bought themselves fishing licenses as a Father’s Day gift so we could plan a day of fishing and picnicking together. It has been great fun despite my not yet having caught a fish on this special day! This year we were fishing near the camp where I’d spent most summer weekends with my grandparents. I was shocked that I’d never brought the girls to see this place that had been so important to me through my teen years, so we took a detour which ended up feeling more like a pilgrimage. Driving slowly down the road, I felt my body travel back in time. We stopped in front of the log cabin camp with the full screened-in porch, and I noticed only two visible changes. The current owners had installed white, ornamental scrollwork along the roof lines, and the porch door (I could still hear it slapping behind me) was lavender. Otherwise the camp was the same place I remembered from all those enduring and endearing summer weekends. However, when I drew back for a wider view I realized that what had been small, neighboring camps had been transformed into two-story, expanded year-round homes complete with vinyl siding and garages. “Our” little log cabin looked like the main character in the children’s book “The Little House” (1943, Caldecott winner), diminished by encroaching and expanding development. Nevertheless, the girls thought it was cool, and they both remembered the most dramatic story from family lore, “This is the place where your grandmother fought all the bats!” It was also the place I slept on the porch on a green plastic glider couch, played cribbage with my grandparents for hours on end, and caught a lot more fish than I have on the these Fathers’ Days in August!