The Houghs: The Houghs' 800th Episode: Father's Day and a Couple Birthdays, Pt. I

Samson and Watson, ready for the drive to Eight Point Lake. . .

Hey, America - how's it goin'?

The Houghs opted to celebrate Father's Day up at our family lakehouse up at Eight Point Lake this year, seeing how my Dad was in town and was up there for the weekend. Coincidentally, this meant also celebrating Alayna's birthday (which fell a couple days ago, if you'll recall) as well as Cindy's birthday (which falls on Sunday.) The forecast for the weekend was about as close to perfect as you can get, folks - low 80s and sunny - so it didn't take a lot of arm-twisting to get our family's collective asses loaded up in the van and on the road (dogs included.) The beauty of owning property on a lake is having access to it outside of one or two specific weeks in a summer (as was the case pre-2019) - I imagine our family will be up at Eight Point pretty regularly this summer.

So, without further adieu, here's the first installment of this weekend's Hough-related tomfoolery. . .

Passing over what's left of Sanford Lake, which looks more like Mordor in the wake up last month's horrifying dam breakage. . .

HOUGHS, ASSEMBLE

Upon arrival, we unloaded our van-full of bullshit into the cottage's spare bedrooms and introduced our dogs to Dad and Cindy's. We figured Samson would be totally down for playing with the others, but he was a bit timid of these other, larger dogs, as shown here.

Cindy and Kris set up shop on the back swing (apparently amid dogs going to the bathroom.)

Antics on the beach

One of the greatest summer beers in existence.

The girls spend most of their time up here in the water.

The parents had requested I show up in the early afternoon in order to lend a hand with replacing one of the existing boat hoists. My brother-in-law, Brian, had sold his old boat after many years and bought a new one, which required a corresponding replacement of boat hoist.

Estimates among the movers (shown here) for this hoist's weight varied, but, in my opinion, it weighed about 500 lbs.

Once we attached wheels to it, moving this thing was pretty easy.

Before we could put it in the water, however, we had to pull the old one out. This was probably the most difficult part of the entire process. It required removing a few pieces, lifting it up, and then attaching it to my dad's Ranger so that it could pull it free.

Some time later, standing handsomely in the lake as dad runs off to grab the Ranger.

Preparing for extraction.

Look, Kris is helping.

Free of the lake, we had to move it up and over the rocks lining the 'beach.' For sure this would be a total bitch, but it went pretty smoothly (with barely a plant destroyed.)

Leading the hoist up the backyard. . .

. . . and up this f***ing hill.

More womenfolk, helping.

With the old hoist out of the way, we could start focusing on getting the new one in place. . .

This is just as much fun as drinking beer on a boat.

The girls were quick to pull out their cherished wetsuits. . .

With the hoist in place, Brian and Blake attached the old one to his truck and drove it away, while the other movers all went home. This left Yours Truly to once again assume his usual duty as Designated Family Photographer.

Kris

Cindy

Dad

Enjoying the shade.

The Lily Pad is a big hit with kids.

The girls have both graduated from goggles that cover one's nose to this kind. I think Alayna taking Swim Class at Northeast last year got her used to them.

Abby would never leave the water if given the choice.

A soul-less Ginger.

This shot would've been way cooler, but my camera accidentally focused on the dock instead of the nephew. Oh well.

Kris' Resting Bitch Face is the thing of legend.

Samson's shit-grin.

Cousin brawlin'

Taking a sugar break after a couple hours of swimming in the lake. . .

Probably tattling on a high schooler (one of Blake's homies.)

Kris hits the booze.

I picked up this trick for cutting watermelon - by slicing it with dental floss, mafia-style - from the World Wide Web. . .

After dinner, Dad and I took the dogs out for a constitutional.

All that remains of Bev's Party Store. I guess some random guy on the lake bought the sign and erected it in his yard as a tribute to the once-fabled lake store.

The Cannonball

Geared up for an evening of boating around the lake. . .

While looking for bug spray downstairs, I came across this relic from what I can only assume is the 1960s. . .

Sunset Cruise time. . .

Preparing to board.

Cindy and Abby

Sunset cruises are easily my favorite thing to do up here on the lake.

Not much to do on the boat besides talk about other cottages on the lake as they pass by, drink a few beers, and take an obnoxious amount of pictures of your fellow passengers. . .

I waited for quite awhile for this other boat to pass directly into the sun's path. I'm pretty awesome at these sunset pics.

Without fail.

Look, more womenfolk taking selfies. . .

Passing by the Old Cottage (ca. 2002 - 2019)

More sunset pics. Gotta have sunset pics.

Once and awhile I pop up in pictures, too.

One more.

I brought up some of our ash wood from home to donate to the cottage supply this summer. They hadn't had a bonfire yet up at the lake, so it was about time.

Lights along the back deck railing.

First Bonfire at the Lake

Samson couldn't be trusted to wander around on his own without taking off (as he is an asshole), so off his run he had to be escorted around on a leash. Like a frickin' prisoner.