The Houghs: The First Juneteenth, Part I

What's up, folks.

So it's weird to actually be around for the creation of a federal holiday. There was a whole slew of them that were formally recognized in, like, the '20s and '30s, and then again in, like, the '60s or '70s. But for the last forty years, I can't recall the creation of any new holidays outside of, say, Patriot Day on Sept. 11th. Which, honestly, is just another day when Republicans can wear an American Flag on their person and remind people not to mess with their Faith, Family, Firearms and FrEeDuM.

But I degress.

This weekend, June 19th was formally made a federal holiday, commemorating the liberation of slaves months after the close of the Civil War (when southern holdouts had to be forced at bayonet point to recognize the Emancipation Proclamation.) This first holiday (Juneteenth) just so happened to fall on the same day the girls and I (with the dogs in tow) drove up to our family lakehouse on Eight Point Lake for the weekend, where we celebrated Father's Day, multiple birthdays a return to 'lake life,' aaaaaand neglected to celebrate Juneteenth at all.

Not sure how folks are going to end up celebrating that one anyway. Kinda hard to do so without being racist, right?

Anyway, here's a shitload of pictures. Enjoy.

Cindy broke out a puzzle for the girls when we first rolled in, since it was raining and all the cool stuff you can do up here at the lakehouse - boating, swimming, etc. - wasn't at option for the time being. I had been checking the weather religiously for days leading up to our weekend on the lake, and had watched with growing dread as the chance for rain gradually increased.

Making snacks with Nana.

Dad keeps an eye out on weather conditions. Despite various weather apps saying that the rain and clouds would be present in various degrees well into the afternoon, we were lucky enough to see the sun return and the rain break off around 1pm. It wouldn't return until late Sunday evening, after we had all returned home to Midland.

Busting out the wet suits for a rain-free swim, while Yours Truly had to step out for an hour. An old friend of mine, Dawn, from high school, passed away after keeping an eleven-month bout with cancer more or less a secret from everyone, and her Celebration of Life was held in Clare at Shamrock Park. BP (who was also friends with her) and I stopped by and paid our respects briefly, before I turned around and headed back to the cottage.

After Dawn's Celebration of Life, I deemed it was time to crack open a cold one and enjoy the sun. Saw this and the store and figured I'd give it a whirl - only 4% so you don't mind drinking it in the early afternoon. Not too bad at all - I only drink this seltzer nonsense in the summer when it's hot out and craft beer doesn't sound as good.

Pretty clear water conditions on the beachfront. Not as sandy as some lakes, but better than several I've swam in.

Bronzing station.

We have to stake this asshole outdoors whenever we bring him up, because he's the only dog up here you can't trust off a leash. We used to keep him tied to the tree you see there in the background, but I rigged up the line to a heavy picnic table umbrella stand and brought that out into the middle of the yard so the little dufus could feel somewhat more involved with things.

Watson's a big fan of sodomizing his little brother when he's around other dogs (like Dad and Cindy's.) Rarely does it at home, but he can't stop himself up here. It's f***ing obnoxious.

Hanging out with Nana on the Lily Pad.

Swimmin'

After Nana went in, Abby started to complain that she didn't have anyone to swim with (since her sister, who is gets bored with anything that isn't TV or her phone after about five minutes, was inside watching anime. . . again.) Enter Dad.

This was waaaaay more difficult than it looks.

In the late afternoon, Dad decided to take the pontoon out for a slow cruise around the lake. And yes, that's my child wearing an Oberon hat: I ordered it from Bell's a year or so ago and didn't care for it (the crown is a little low for my tastes), so I gave it to Alayna. She loves it.

Fair weather conditions.

Not gonna caption everything here, folks - I always take a shitload of pontoon pictures, and there's never a whole hell of a lot going on. . .

The Original Cottage. Now fenced.

Dad generally lets the girls take turns driving the boat once he clears the Sandbar. Abby is always more adamant about having the opportunity to do so (no surprises there.)

Alayna decides she wants a go of it.

Check out Alayna's 'woke' shirt. She's big into civil equality these days.

With another successful boat ride wrapped up, we headed back to shore and Cindy served dinner. Shortly afterwards, BP and his daughter, Delia, rolled in from his parents' house in Clare to hang out for the evening. Here the girls are presenting him with. . . lake snails.

Sunset on Eight Point Lake. Almost time for the evening cruise. . .

Abby and Delia, back in the water.

Embryonic Crusadah, Bastard Bastard Harbour Mastah.

Delia was able to squeeze into one of the smaller wet suits we had lying around up at the lakehouse - don't think our girls ever managed to fit into the pink ones.