My hammock and I have a long, tumultuous history. It was the source of my first marital disagreement with Lee, when he thought it was too expensive and I thought the sale price was too good to pass up. Also, we didn’t have a hammock stand or even two good trees to tie it to at the time, so I kind of see his point.
So the hammock remained rolled up in our garage, with me on the lookout for a good stand or some other way to bring my hammock dreams to life.
That was 8 years ago. When we moved to this house three and a half years ago, I was psyched that there were a few good trees for hammock hanging. So here I was, finally in my hammock, several months pregnant with Camille and enjoying a popsicle and a book.
Thankfully, Camille was just fine, but the hammock was rolled up again (and cursed at) and returned to the garage.
Fast forward three years. I found a good deal on a hammock stand on Amazon, so decided to give the hammock one more try. Surely its bad karma couldn’t continue, right?
I was excited when I assembled the stand and hung the hammock securely on the hooks, with no more fear of breaking ropes. I sank into it, and literally sank. All the way to the ground.
Apparently, my hammock is larger than the typical hammock size, and was too long for the stand. The hammock was cursed.
But I refused to give up, and after twisting the hammock ropes many, many times, I was able to shorten the length enough that I no longer touch the ground while lying in it.
We have really enjoyed it the few times it has been warm enough for a swing, and I know we’ll use it even more as spring approaches. Camille, ever the timid one, has no interest at all in swinging in the hammock. However, she does enjoy pushing us, or if there is nothing else to do, pushing a stick. Why not?