Stopping for gelato on the way.
Saturday morning reading on the deck.
Dipped cone stop in the afternoon.
G and B were nice enough to let me drag them away for a break.
J and Q arrive and are brave enough to swim in the lake.
G and i went back tot he hotel and swam in the algae-free water.
Bubble time.
If baby books are to be believed (and I like to think my mother did not completely invent my entire pre-memory life) my first trip/vacation was to the lake when I was about a month old. This weekend I spent a lot of time reviewing my memories of the place. My mother's cousin was discussing some of his memories and spending the summers of his teenage years there. It's something that binds my entire extended family. Though the current decor leaves me longing for the more minimalist furniture of my youth, it's always familiar. Going is a kaleidoscope of new memories imposed on old ones. A toilet seat with shark teeth decals, giant cowboy boot wall hangings, glitter on the ceilings, bathing suits full of algae, seemingly hundreds of jelly shoes lost in the lake, pineapple upside down cake, hours of atari games, sinking boats, sunburns, and laughter.
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