Return to Eight Point Lake, Pt. V

(and now, the thrilling conclusion. . .)

Friday - Saturday

July 24th - 25th

"Swan Song of the Cottage"

Following last weekend's epic (and long) Cornhole Tournament, we spent one more day up at the Cottage before returning to Midland.  Rowley had flown back to Vegas, Dad had to travel on business, and the Whites had to return to work, so there really wasn't much going on during Week 2.  

Cindy stayed up at the Cottage throughout the second week, visiting with her family and the Waites (who each rented cabins on the lake as well.)  However, on Friday, the Whites - and us - decided to return to the Cottage for one, last day/night of fun on the lake. . .

Playing with muck.  'Cause apparently it's 'fun.'

Hough chicks.

The Cannonball makes a new friend.

She spent about ten minutes looking for an appropriate place to release her friend back into the wild. . .

Playing Catch Ball. . . or whatever the hell this game is called.

BFFs.

Jax demands Aunt Kristina's drink.

Brian White puts the finishing touches on the evening's fire.

Back from another bout of tubing around Eight Point Lake.

When you ask the girls to 'strike a pose,' this is the sort of shit you end up with.

Activating a blender from the 1950s to make some margaritas. . .

The last night cruise of 2015.  Somehow it ended up entailing me, Brian, and six little kids.  Not sure how we got screwed into that deal.

A quacktastic sunset over the lake.

*     *     *     *     *

Last sunrise of our stay (menacing clouds, fortunately, didn't spell total disaster for the rest of the day.)

Historical documentaries, fighting dogs, and a cottage filled to the brim with kids.  Just another morning at the Cottage. . .

Taking another group of kids out to get the crap kicked out of them. . .

'Teaching them how to fish,' or ' letting them hold a pole while NOTHING happens.'

Alayna reels in a massive three-inch monster from the deeps. . .

Bradley (second from right) and two of his buddies saw the abysmal job the girls were doing fishing and took it upon themselves to show them how to do it. . .

Another tubing expedition. . .

Not showboating.  At all.

Man overboard

This was a lot harder than it looks.  I figured it'd be the waves that knock you off the tube, but it was when you're flung around a turn, and the inertia (if that's the correct term to use) from the turn, pulls you right off the tube. 

On the way back in, Abby and I trolled behind the boat for an extremely boring pleasurable tube ride.

Once we got back to shore, we packed the boat full of booze and snacks and made our way out to the Sandbar for awhile.  Unfortunately, it was packed with pontoons (being the weekend and all), so we didn't stay there as long as we did last week.  Alas, on our way back, the boat ran out of gas and we were stranded in the middle of the lake.  Fortunately, being the awesome person that I am, their were walkie-talkies on board, and we were able to radio the Cottage for assistance.  Cindy had to wait 'til Dad came back from Clare in order to take the red Sea Doo boat out to rescue us.  Here's Dad receiving a Hero's Welcome from our two, idiot dogs.

We ended up being stuck in the middle of the lake for about a half an hour.  Fortunately, no one had to use the bathroom.

Happy kids.

Securing the ropes so Dad could pull us back in to port. . .

Docking safely.

Girls and Nana.

Weird poses from my kids.  No surprises there.

'Til next year, Eight Point.

- Fín -

- Brian