Fourth of July on the Lake (...sort of.)

Hi Internet.

Well, turns out the weather held out long enough today to get a solid trip in to Eight Point Lake. It might not have been our usual Fourth of July, extended-weekend venture, but at least we got something similar to the norm this year.

Abby is about to attend a week-long Pom boot camp with her Midland JV team at Northwood at the butt-crack dawn tomorrow, so we were unable to even stay the night up at the lake. This was instead a simple day trip, and we ended up heading back to Midland once the annual flares were over and done with. Abby even ended up staying behind so that she could finish up packing.  The silver lining here was that we didn't have to worry about packing a ton of overnight stuff, coolers, the girls' crap, the dogs, etc. - hell of a lot easier.

The Whites, along with Jeff, Carissa, and their four kids, were all up for the day as well (though Jeff and his crew ended up staying the night.) And as disappointed as we all were that we weren't having our usual Fourth of July weekend up at Eight Point, we were planning on rescheduling our extended visit for the following week, when Bryan and Chelsey were flying in.

So here you go, gang - this year's installment of Eight Point flares and what-not. Check it out. . .

We arrived around noon, shortly before Jeff and his family, and as soon as his kids changed into swimwear they started bugging me about jet ski rides. So I spent the next hour and a half doing what any good uncle would do. . . 

After exhausting about 40% of a tank of gas running my kids and Jeff's kids about the lake, I finally threw in the towel and asked for a break. So then the nephews started asking for a boat ride instead, so Dad stepped up and loaded up the grandkids on the pontoon for a buzz around the lake.

Scarlett and the Cannonball.

Kinsley and Carissa.

Boat Captain

Treacherous clouds on the horizon. . .

Kinsley on lookout duty, keeping an eye out for pirates.

Back on dry land, the Whites finally decided to show up.

Jeff and Carissa broke out this string-ball/ladder game thing that they brought up with them.

Some of the kids wanted to tube, seeing how Uncle Brian White had finally showed up and gotten his boat uncovered, so we decided to risk the impending doom (see nefarious clouds.)

Kris and Jill, clucking about mom stuff.

Levi and Alayna (who enjoys riding in the boat while others tube, as always.)

Pulling Jax and Owen on a tube (which I neglected to get pics of, unfortunately.)

All hell broke loose in the middle of the kids' tubing ride, of course, and so we had to scramble to reel them back in to the boat and quickly make a fast break for the lakehouse. We were getting pelted with fat-ass rain that felt like bullets as we sped across the water, so Jill obviously had to protect herself.

Brian works his boat hoist as quickly as humanly possible.

After an hour or so of rain, the storm blew past and the moms went back out to the waterfront to sit and shoot the shit.

Later on in the afternoon, it was time for the annual golf kart parade, so we gathered the kids up by the garage so they could check it out.

Folks around the lake decorate their golf karts then do a lap around the lake, tossing out candy and honking at their neighbors.

Kris is clearly super-excited to see golf karts. . .

These guys decked the kart out like a cop car and were passing out cop badge stickers to kids (and adults.)

Vultures. . .

There's only ever, like, twelve golf karts that participate in this - my parents didn't do it this year.

Now the kids have enough candy to last them through the next couple hours up at the lake. Just what they need. . .

Levi put a badge sticker on Bailey's diaper (he recently lost control of his bladder, or something like that, due to his failing health.)

Brian White, of course, was tasked with running the grill for dinner, whipping up some quick and easy dogs and brats for everyone.

Chow time.

Carissa and Jeff, pensively gazing out upon the lake.

An impromptu game of baseball in the yard, which generally seems to happen whenever Jax is up at the lake.

Kinsley sits wherever she damn well pleases, folks.

Jeff's kids (aside from Scarlett) also play baseball, so this activity kept them all occupied for a bit.

Watching the kids burn off some sugar on the back deck.

Aunt Jill whipped a wiffle ball straight at Kinsley's face at one point. Aunt of the Year, right here.

Back inside, Jeff's kids were dialed up to 11 and had to be put in their place frequently. Brian White don't take no shit from no one.

Alayna and Scarlett passing some time with his squares game (that me and my siblings used to play all the time while bored in church.)

I'm a huge hit with nephews, rest assured.

Not sure which kid drew this, but I'm afraid for either me or Jeff, that's for damn sure. Francesca looks gross as hell.

The sun begins to set over Eight Point Lake. . .

At 10pm, the traditional water-skier holding a torch zoomed around the lake. Per the usual, as he passes by every cottage on the lake, they're supposed to light off their flares, one by one, until the entire lake is ringed in flame.

'Merica.

Dad and I were on flare duty, and were able to get them lit and running a lot faster than last year.

Neighbors down the coastline began shooting off occasional fireworks, too. Nothing compared to Labor Day's much grander display, of course, but still appreciated.

The Whites had taken off by this time, having not wanted to stay late enough for the flares (I had to convince Kris to stay a little later, too - she wanted to leave early as well.)

Levi requested a pic of this. He's an odd, little man.

Watching flares - and some fireworks - over the lake, towards the end of the evening, shortly before we took off back to Midland.

Next time we'll be up at the lake will be for our annual extended stay, this time around when Bryan and Chelsey come up from Tennessee. Stay tuned for that (I'm sure) much more thrilling installment. . .

- Brian

Happy Brothers Day(s)

Abby and Alayna, tossin' some heavy bags

What up, gangsters.

So we've got Mother's Day, we've got Father's Day (but not really), and if this past weekend were to have a similar theme, it most certainly would have been Brothers Day.  Chris, Jeff and I hung out most of the weekend with all of our collective offspring:  weather was hit-or-miss (Friday was awesome, Saturday was meh), we all had wide-open schedules, so figured we'd let the cousins hang out with one another and throw a few back.

Friday we hung out in my backyard for most of the afternoon and evening, enjoying the trampoline, some cornhole, crochet, and watching my grill nearly catch on fire and burn down my house.  Saturday saw Jeff and I bringing our families up to the lakehouse on Eight Point Lake (Chris unfortunately had sand in his vagina and couldn't make it out), where, despite the cloudy weather and occasional wind gusts, we managed to get a solid amount of boating in (once the jet ski was fixed, that is.)

Pretty chill weekend, but good times for sure.  Took a bunch of pics (and a few videos) for your viewing pleasure, as always.  Enjoy, folks. . .

Before folks showed up in the early afternoon, the Houghs decided to give the cornhole boards a spin.  Bags have a hard time sticking on this set, so we're thinking it's due to two factors: 1.) the bags aren't quite broken in yet, and, as a result, are still pretty heavy, and 2.) the boards are too slick - Kris is gonna have to sand some of the polymer layers off so bags don't shoot off as easy.

Folks showed up around 2pm.  Originally we had planned on a later hangout, with maybe a fire involved, but the county is in the middle of a Burn Ban right now (all over the state, actually - we haven't had rain in weeks) so we bumped everything up a few hours.

The trampoline was a huge hit with the younger kids.  Our kids never go on it anymore.

Mom and John stopped by for, like, a half an hour or so to hang out with all their grandkids.

Jeff monitors the controlled chaos of the Octagon.

Kris and Nicole

Some handsome guy. . .

Kris and her wide-angle lens.

This kid needs to be grounded for wearing a Central sweatshirt.  F*** the Chips.

Meanwhile, back in the trampoline. . .

Abby gives Owen a ride around the backyard - she's pretty good with her little cousins (unlike the Cannonball, who's too cool to lower herself to such efforts.)

Louis asked that I take a picture of him holding up these crushed, plastic eyeballs he found in our backyard (leftover from Kris' Halloween Scavenger Hunt during our annual Halloween Party.)

Yard full of debris - clear sign of kids running amok.

Watching everyone else have fun while I try and keep my grill from catching on fire.

So we kept it simple as far as food goes for today - burgers, brats, dogs - but that apparently was too much grease for my grill.  Flames started shooting out and I had to cut the line to the propane tank (which I had to switch out at Kroger as I was getting started, a process which took nearly a half an hour because it was like the frickin' Special Olympics down at Kroger when I went to switch the tanks out.) At least the food came out edible in the end.

Womenfolk, patiently waiting for food.

These three, not so patiently waiting for food.

I thought the young boys were going to rise up and mutiny over the corn on the cob taking too long to cook.  I've never known kids to love corn so damn much.

Nicole and the twins.

Grazing.

Kris had to leave our backyard hangout for a little bit in order to drive Alayna over to Midland High School, where she was accompanying a group of Orchestra kids, along with their teacher, down to Detroit in order to watch a performance by the Detroit Symphony.  She wouldn't be coming back until frickin' midnight.

Nicole and I vs. Jeff and Abby

Cousins, plotting something.

Samson managed to eat an entire hotdog - bun and all - along with an entire corn on the cob this afternoon.  And that's just what we caught him with. . .

Louis and Chris, playing catch.

This pool that Chris and Nicole brought along with them definitely came in handy - the water was a solid distraction for the kids.

So much going on in this picture. . . I love it.

We started a game of crochet in the evening - I had set up a solid course throughout two-thirds of my backyard - but halfway through Chris and Nicole had to leave (I think their kids were hanging by a thread at this point), so Abby and Owen were subbed in.

Long story short, at the last gate of the course, Jeff was about 8 inches from winning. . . when Yours Truly, utilizing my superior crochet skills, hit a hail mary shot from about 15 ft back, passing Jeff's own ball by an inch or so, and striking the final post.  That's what heroes do, folks.

Levi, running his Goddamn mouth.

My nephews don't give me a minute's rest.  Abby and Scarlett do not look amused.

As it started to cool off outside, we made our way indoors and Jeff and I hung out in the Study, listening to records and having a whiskey.  The kids followed us in there, ruining all chances of having some relaxing, adult time.

Jeff and his clan ended up leaving an hour or so later, and the rest of us chilled out with a movie to close out the night.

The next day, our family and Jeff's both rolled into the lakehouse out on Eight Point around noon-ish (Jeff's fam about fifteen minutes before ours.)  His kids were already in the water, but when they saw me coming down the lawn they began to bombard me with jet ski requests (remembering my shuttling services from Memorial Day Weekend.) I took Owen out first, but after hitting some waves for a bit I noticed the jet ski was running weird.  Several times it just stopped entirely, so I brought it back into port so Dad and I could take a look at it.  Opening up the engine, it was incredibly hot inside - and damp - and Dad noticed a hose of some kind had been knocked off.

While Kris once again worked on her nails, Dad and his neighbor - in the background - worked on the engine.  Apparently it was the coolant hose (I think, something along those lines) that had been knocked off, so the engine was overheating.  They had to run out to the Boat Doctor for some more fluid, and once they had the tank filled up, I took it around the lake on a long cruise in order to get the coolant running through the engine again.  Once I docked, they topped it off and the jet ski was good as new - basically an hour, tops, out of commission.  Catastrophe averted.

Scarlett watches on and Kris fusses with Abby's nails.

Cindy wanted some updated family pictures for her many collages in the house.  Here's Jeff, Levi, Scarlett and Owen.

. . . and the Houghs.

Bailey does not respect personal space.

This was a pretty interesting spin on the classic Oberon.  I'd been sitting on it for over a year, so figured it was time to give 'er a whirl.

Levi was starting to get bored with swimming, and didn't have any interest in jet skiing just yet, so I took him and Jeff inside and showed them where the Nintendo was.  A little Super Mario 3 is good for what ails ya. . .

Meanwhile, back on the lake, I ran the jet ski into the f***ing ground - taking different combinations of Owen, Abby, Scarlett and eventually Levi out whipping around the lake.

Dad and Jeff.  Not parenting.

Kris and Scarlett.

Abby was freezing.  Had the sun been out at all it wouldn't have been too bad - it was in the low '80s, after all - but it was overcast and pretty breezy, so it felt a hell of a lot cooler.

The Cannonball brought her Chromebook up to the lakehouse. . . for some reason, not sure.

Kris took the womenfolk out on a golf kart ride around the lake, in order to break up the monotony of the afternoon while Yours Truly took kids out in turns around the lake.

Alayna and another Snapchat selfie.

Brats and dogs for dinner.

After dinner, the wind had died down enough that Dad offered to take kids out around the lake on a pontoon cruise.  Alayna took this picture of Kris and I walked out towards the dock from underneath the pontoon canopy - kinda weird we're marching in step like that.

A bit chilly out on the lake, but nothing some blankets and sweatshirts can't fix.

My kids definitely love their blankets on the pontoon.

Scarlett, Levi and Jeff

I need to shave.

Dad let Jeff's kids take turns driving the pontoon (once we got past the Sandbar, obviously.)  Here's him and Owen. . .

. . . aaaaand then Levi.  Who clearly knows everything about everything in existence.

This is a lot of shit-talking from such a little dude.  Nephew better watch his mouth.

Lotta shade coming from my roommates in this pic.

Coming into the home stretch.

Closing out the evening with some ice cream.

Levi colored this surprisingly-awesome picture of what's clearly the jet ski hitting some waves.  Colors and details are on point - nobody, including Jeff, knew he could do this sorta thing.  The Hough genes show themselves in yet another. . .

Cousins sharing pics and video over ice cream.

Apparently Levi's a Meghan Trainor fan. . .

I have no idea what the hell is happening here. . .

Hair-braiding is so commonplace in our house that I don't even acknowledge it anymore.  It's like nails being done, it's just always happening in the background.

Me and my clone.

Working a brush through Scarlett's lake-mange.

Around the time we were packing up to head back to Midland, Jeff's boys were back out in the sand - despite the wind and cooling temperatures - because, you know, boys will be boys.

- Brian