Eight Point Lake '18, Pt. IV

(. . . and now, the final chapter of this year's Eight Point saga.)

Monday

July 23rd
"The Sandbar and Exodus"

A dark and dreary morning on Eight Point Lake.  I had slept in on this particular morning, and consequently missed the sunrise entirely. . . but Dad, who flew out for New Jersey early in the morning and left waaaay before anyone else was up, managed to take this and text it to me.  Proper documentation of our family's stay at the cottage is a team effort, America.

Yet another slow morning around the cottage (with Alayna in her usual spot on the couch, nestled deep in a comforter, with probably some kind of screen in front of her.)

Someone had brought up the old '80s classic Guess Who up to the cottage this year, and after a quick demonstration on how the game was played, it quickly became the kid favorite.

(I had to help Jax.  The little dude's Art of Deduction would make Sherlock Holmes kill himself.)

Bean Boozled.  I had originally bought this for the girls, but forgot to give it to them. . . so I brought it up to the lake for the nephews to have fun with.  Basically, what you have is a simple-looking bag of jelly beans, and within it you will find two beans of each color:  one is a normal flavor, the other is, well, disgusting (Tutti Frutti or Rotten Fish, Coconut or Spoiled Milk, etc.)  It's Russian Roulette, in jelly bean -form.  

Hilarity ensues.

They even tricked Uncle Bryan, who wasn't all that amused.

Back at Guess Who, the game that surprisingly never gets old.

Fast-forwarding a bit, following a slow morning and then lunch, we decided to start getting the kids around in order to take them up to the infamous Sandbar.  Believe it or not, we hadn't yet made it up there during the week (not that the weather helped things at all.)

The Sandbar of Eight Point Lake.

Aw, a father/son game of catch.  In a lake.

Basically everyone at the cottage went except for Cindy, so we needed two boats to haul everyone and our supplies up there.

Abby explores the rockier, more un-tamed side of the 'Bar.

The kids always love playing in this damn tree. . .

Alayna, once again, was showing how old she's really become this year:  she was bored with the whole sandbar scene, and didn't even want to come out with us (I had to force her.)  She told us she was bored before we had been there five minutes, and it took a lot of coaxing to get her out of the boat at all.

Abby, on the other hand, loves the Sandbar.  Can't get enough of the place.

Digging around in the sand dirt.

Bryan's old friend Brent met us all up there, and brought along his siblings and their families as well as his own.  Fortunately, there weren't a whole lot of other folks around while we were up there (being a Monday, it was pretty dead), and we had more or less staked out the entire beach part of it with our three boats.

Building sand castles (or whatever the hell these are) kept the Cannonball occupied for awhile.  Thank God.

Watching Bryan mess around with the red boat's engine.

Another solid brew from the boys at Short's.  Perfect for an overcast afternoon on the lake.

Alayna, back on the boat.  She kept complaining that she was cold, so I just let her hang out on the boat and mope after awhile.  I'm no one's entertainment committee.

I left my phone on the boat, and at one point in time Abby found it.  I came across this selfie later on in the day while I was going through pictures.

Aunt Lucy makes an appearance.

Alayna looks totally thrilled to be out on the lake.

The Michaels clan brought up this inflatable whatever-the-hell-this-is with them.  Abby had a lot of fun on it.

Still cold.  And bored.

Abby orders other kids around.  Totally normal.

Siblings and offspring.

The Michaelses.

That's what she gets for wearing a damn sweatshirt at the beach.

Beautiful. . .  and I suppose the girls aren't bad, either.

It was overcast, and a bit on the chilly side for being in the water (mid/upper 70s, thereabouts.)  Still better than being cooped up in a rinky-dink cottage, though.

Surprise, surprise.

Cindy had asked that I get some good pictures of Bryan and his girlfriend, Chelsey, while we were up at the Sandbar.  When I passed this information along, Bryan decided to pose a few for his mom.  'Cause it's Bryan.

He's bonafide.

For whatever reason, Brent's little sister, Heather, and Bryan decided to try their hand at recreating that one scene from Dirty Dancing.  No idea why, but the results were pretty hilarious.

Another attempt. . .

Alayna, after an hour or two, begins to warm up to the Sandbar.  FINALLY.

This kid and her f***ing gymnastics. . .

Jax runs for his life.

We got a few of these uncles in the family. . .

Back to being bored and cold.

As it closed in on dinner time, we decided it was about time to haul all the kids back to the cottage and get them fed and what not.

Arriving at port.

Someone else caught this.  My kids, like their old man, know absolutely nothing when it comes to fishing.

Evening creeps in.

Abby stepped on something sharp at one point, but fortunately we had a certified nurse on hand to help bandage her up.

Super thrilled.

Pre-dinner snacking.

Devices.

More devices.

Chelsey and Jill, keeping it classy.

While Cindy once again kept watch over the younger grandkids, the rest of us went out on a hardcore tubing circuit. . .

Jill makes some crazy-ass faces when she tubes.

Brian whipped the holy hell out of these two.

Man (er, woman) overboard. . .

A desperate hand reaches out over the waves (pretty sure it's Jill's.)

Blake and Nick's turn. . .

Blake goes down.

Brian scans the waves, makes sure his son gets his ass beat.

After the boys had had their fill of tubing, Uncle Bryan wanted a turn at wake boarding.

(He's actually pretty good at it.)

The sunset was perfect lighting for these shots - I just had to wait for the right angle, lest he become back-lit.

Thankful he landed that last one.

(He didn't quite land this one.)

Back on dry land, we came back to find Nana and the grandkids baking up some treats in the kitchen.

Jax asserts his dominance.  Didn't get him very far.

Abby, as usual, talking someone's ear off.  Whoever she's talking to probably stopped listening about ten minutes ago, that's usually what happens around these parts.

Winding down with hoodies, tablets, and Netflix.  That's how the Cannonball rolls.

Tuesday

July 24th
"Swan Song"

One last morning at the lake.  The girls and I left today, as they were basically running on fumes and, by this point in time, were funned out with the cottage (Alayna, at any rate - I probably could've gotten another day or two out of Abby.)

Guess Who (along with the usual tablets and Netflix) kept the girls entertained while I loaded up all our bags, mini-fridges, and all the other crap we brought up with us this year into our van.  We ended up waiting around until after lunch to leave, so that we could say bye to the Waites before we headed back to Midland (and Civilization.)

Before we left, Mackenzie swung by the house and brought along this old school paper she wrote in, like, sixth grade.  I guess the assignment was for students to write about someone they think is interesting - something along those lines.  Personally, I think she has pretty good taste (although she may have embellished the pool part - I totally suck at pool.)

- Fín -

- Brian