I survived!

You faithful readers may recall that I was meeting my family at the lake this weekend.  The more astute of you make also have surmised that I was less than thrilled with the prospect.  You are very bright, dear Reader, I was not excited about going.  I was forecasting extreme heat and epic sunburn.  Alas, I am of the fair skinned variety.  Actually, that may have been an understatement.  I am so fair skinned in fact, that I can get a sunburn on the way to the mailbox 15 yards from my front door.  I think it might have something to do with that whole “vampire” thing I have going on.  But I digress.  I do have a tendency to ramble on.  After a 3 1/2 hour drive that concluded with a 12 mile trek down a one way, washboard, dirt road with a sheer drop to the lake far below, my daughter and mom-in-law didn’t get to the lake until 8:00.  And then we had to search for “our” campers out of literally thousands of drunk revellers in the dark, winding, narrow lanes through the camp grounds.  When we arrived, I discovered no electricity.  A brief spate of panic set in and I texted the Quills, and like good Sisters, they offered to launch a rescue mission.  I got a grip and put my lap top away.  There was no better excuse for why I didn’t get anymore revising done!

It turns out, my brother and his wife and kids and his best friend and his kids, were already there with my husband and son, and a score of other family and their friends.  It turns out that my day at the lake was mostly enjoyable, I am pleased to admit. Believe me, no one is more surprised than me.  It rained in the morning but by 10 am the sun was out and it never became too hot.  As expected, I was the one in charge of keeping the children alive.  That is my usual job, a role that I recognize I have thrust myself into but, nevertheless a worthy assignment.  Maybe it’s the automatic lot in life for a mother to do frequent head counts and add to the the expected total any stray tots that come in her range.  The children I counted numbered 6 and their ages ran from 2 to 8.  I am proud to say that – at least on my watch – all six remained alive and mostly unscathed.  That is not to say that said children were in the same condition they were in when they arrived at the lake.  My Sweet Babaloo was, for lack of a better word, rank.  By the time I caught up with him, he had spent four days at the lake living the bachelor lifestyle with his father.  They boated and jet skiied, swam and fished.  Babaloo will be more than delighted to tell you the tale of catching his first fish:  a bluegill that he reeled in, by himself, petted and let go.  His father contends that there was a shower, but I’m here to tell you that child reeked of stinky boy and lake water.  Not a pleasant aroma, I assure you.  But all in all, I had a good time.  We made s’mores and had steaks from the campfire,  the stars were out, there was much laughing and, probably most gratifying for me, the water was entirely too cold for me to be expected to put on a bathing suit and swim.  The world was safe yet again from that unnecessary horror.  My niece and nephew are always a delight and the kids had a great time playing together.  Really, is the water ever too cold for kids to want to swim?  They’ll stand there shivering and, with blue lips, assure you it’s not cold, the little sadists.  Aside from the fact that I got no writing done and, even more unlikely, nearly no reading accomplished, it was not entirely the dreadful experience that I anticipated.  And by far the best thing of all, no sunburn!  There is a God and, apparently, she takes pity on the translucent.