Showing posts with label Tucker. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Tucker. Show all posts

Sunday, May 13, 2018

Happy Brothers Day!


What's up, folks.

So Mother's Day rolled around today.  You know, it's like Father's Day, except people spend a lot more and make a bigger deal about it (honestly, 'cause men don't give a shit.)  Yet another day of the year when Hallmark starts sticking us in the ribs with its gnarled finger, requiring that we spend unnecessary money on shitty cards for those in our lives who are important to us.  'Cause, you know, they need a card in order for them to know that.

I hate Hallmark holidays.

Anyway.

Kris came up with a plan this Mother's Day, which, at first, might seem like me somehow dropping the ball with planning and everything, but this was her last-minute concoction (and she's like me in not giving a shit about Hallmark Holidays. . . thank God.)  She wanted to invite all of our moms over for some backyard grilling, which sounded fine to me as the weather was awesome today, sunny and low-70s.  Unfortunately, due to her feminine last-minute, not-at-all-carefully planned-out scheme, two of our moms were already busy with other stuff that day, so we were only able to snag Kris' mom, Marcy.  So Kris decided, then, to extend invites to my brothers and their wives (both moms), but Jeff and Annie were also otherwise occupied.  Chris and Nicole were down, though, and brought over their twin boys in the early afternoon.

Shortly into this random, last-minute venture, Chris and I decided to christen this gorgeous sunny day 'Brother's Day.'

In your face, Hallmark!!

You couldn't have asked for a better day to do this. . .
Chris and Nicole brought over their third son, Tucker, as well (Watson was pretty pumped about this, as you can see here.)
Nicole snagged a spot in the shade right away - sun and babies don't mix all that well.
Just like his old man.
The girls have a lot of fun with these two, you just have to watch them closely (they're not the best at preventing babies from falling over.)
We still have a shitload of these tulips growing all over the place.
The sooner we get this girl enrolled in gymnastics, the better.
Sleeping in the sun - one of Watson's all-time, favorite past-times.
Another day, another selfie.
Burgers, dogs, corn on the cob. . . nothing fancy for these moms.
(The girls requested this picture.)
Generational picture.
We had to change our cozy spot in the backyard, as the shade changed along with the sun's over the course of the afternoon (how do you like my shed?)
Sam and Abby.
Louis, out like a light.
And that's how you celebrate a Brother's Day, America.

- Brian

Sunday, July 24, 2016

Lemonade from Lemons, Pt. III

(contd.)
Saturday
July 23rd
"Chris, Nicole and Tucker, and the Arrival of the Waites"

Another tranquil morning over Eight Point Lake.  The forecast for Saturday was looking to be perfect.
The girls go 'tubing' around Cape Buoy, courtesy of Yours Truly and the unsinkable Cagafuego.
Chris and Nicole showed up late in the morning, with their faithful dog-child, Tucker, in tow.  They had a pretty-convenient life-jacket for their dog. . . 'cause they apparently love their dog more than we do ours.
Our dog hates the water as much as Yours Truly hates Ohio, so we have to throw him in in order to get him to swim (we should probably get him his own bitchin' life jacket at some point.)
Watson makes his escape. . .
Breaking out the kayaks. . . which ended up being more a hit than I would have guessed.
Donning my Captain's Hat for a cruise around the lake.  Being one of the only adults capable of driving the boat around this year, I've definitely gotten some practice in over the last few days.
Since Watson didn't have a life vest himself - and can't swim for crap - he had to sit this joy ride out.
Captain has the Helm.
Back on shore. . . sort of.
More swimming with dogs and kids.
I get this look a lot.
Nana looks thrilled.
Alayna's trademarked 'Dino Dance.'  Never gets old.
Sometimes, one pair of sunglasses just isn't enough. 
Time for another conga line. . .
Pipe break aboard Eight Point Lake's finest vessel. 
Bloody Maries (Marys?) are a staple up here at the Cottage.
The Waites showed up in the afternoon, so we decided to set the boards up for some warm-up tosses prior to tomorrow's annual Cornhole Tournament. . .
This dog can't ever catch a break
 My buddy BP and his fam showed up after dinner to hang out for a couple hours, so we loaded everyone up for another cruise around the lake. . . 
. . . with plenty of candy for the offspring on board.
The sunset cruises are always my favorites - the lake is dead and you can just putt around and hang out with people.  On a boat.
Enjoying a quiet evening while all the hyperactive children are out in the boat.

Sunday
July 24th
"Cornhole '16"


In previous years, the Annual Cornhole Tournament is the biggest, craziest day of the week for those of us on the lake.  This year, as previously discussed, has been notably quieter: we haven't had as many people up at the Cottage, and weren't expecting anything remotely close to what we had on hand for last year's tournament.  There'd be a mere dozen of us competing in the tournament, compared with last year's - hell, I don't know - 50 or so.
Al and Shirley - old friends of Lucy and Larry's from Grand Rapids - were back on hand for this year's tournament.  They've been a cornerstone of the competition since its inception.
Alas, the weather wasn't on our side for most of the morning.  It varied between pouring and drizzling throughout the morning, much to everyone's dismay.
In the meantime, we kept busy watching TV, religiously checking weather apps on our phones, and even putting together ridiculous puzzles from the '70s, '80s and '90s.
Found this book while looking through the cottage owner's book shelf for something to read while waiting for the rain to cease.  No amount of rain could get me to read this crap (side note: is the kid on the left a boy or a girl?)  
Fortunately the kids were able to keep themselves busy.  Doing God knows what.
Apparently the weather's better in Hawaii. . .
Around lunchtime, the weather miraculously improved, so Yours Truly took the boat and some kids with cabin fever (cottage fever?) out for a spin around the lake. 
Hardware up for grabs.  Last year, if you'll remember, Al and I took second place (we were cheated out of first due to the first place winners having two As on their team.)
Uncle Larry's Rules of the Game speech.
This year was a pretty bland affair compared with last year's behemoth, but the silver lining to fewer participants was that there really was no need for double-elimination until the Finals.
(People make the greatest faces while throwing bags of sand.)
These guys aren't old enough to play yet, so they passed the time collecting 'shells,' rocks, and all things otherwise slimy and disgusting in the lake.
I'm a snappy dresser, what can I say?
Kris participated this year, believe it or not.
 
Al swears by using beer as a counterweight to his throwing arm.  He's pretty good, so he might be on to something with this. 
Taking some practice throws before the final game:  Larry and Kris vs. Al and Cindy.
It should go without saying that the game really came down between these two guys right here (though my wife and stepmom will probably say otherwise.)  Ultimately Al and Cindy would win the day.
Grilling up some dead animals following an afternoon of cornholin'.
I love it when other people cook food like this. We never eat this good in our house (we're lazy.)
Second-Place finalists.
2016 Champions
Another sunset cruise around the lake.  With these two.
You can't take these people anywhere.. .

And so goes another tournament in the books. . .

- Brian