Morning at the Lake House

The sun is just coming up when I leave the lovely Lake House

 where everyone else is still sleeping.

 I can't resist the call of the lake at the end of the street.

 I want to put my feet in the cool water and have waves wash against my ankles.

 It's a lovely morning to walk along the beach.

The "Blue Moon" from last night's beach walk is still in the morning sky.

After I admire the various shells, feathers, driftwood and stones that the waves splash against, I look up

and there is someone who has come to tell me that  everyone else is now awake 

and it is time for the activities of the day to begin!

Post Vacation Blues

The idea of vacation is refreshing oneself for the return to everyday, right?  

Only what if you don't want to go back?

I wanted to stay.

I wanted to wander down sandy paths

to windswept beaches

and follow the tides to find treasures.

I wanted to look for rare birds

and to spy on the secretive creatures of the marshes

I wanted to find the patterns of moss

and sand

and wood

that the wind and water created.

No, I didn't want to come home.

Pour another, I've got those too-good a vacation blues.

All it takes to make me happy...

It's really very easy to make me happy. It doesn't take much. Let's see...

there should be a lovely condo on an island,

pleasant company to share it,

lots of good food to eat,

oh, and cake!  Birthday cake!

And don't forget something fizzy to drink.

There should be an ocean with a beach and bare feet to feel the sand and the water.

AND there should be music,

lots and lots of music!

And we need a picture of everyone all together!

Get over there on the balcony, everyone.

I'll just put the camera up here...oops...

it fell over that time.

Let's try again.

I'll just get a little help setting it up.

Yup, this'll work.

See?  Everyone all together!

Happy Mother's Day weekend!

Happy birthday weekend!

I'm happy.

Wasn't that easy?

A Day at the Beach

Even though we live far from the ocean, we still have lakes. And lakes have beaches. And it seems that nothing says "Summer Vacation" like a day at the beach.
So we decided to pack a picnic and head for the lake. The Cowgirl has an itsy-witsy teeny weenie polkadot bikini that she wore...oops. That song sticks in your head, doesn't it?

She also had a kitty cat floatie and a blue lifejacket but they didn't inspire song.

We plunged right in.

Some of us spent a long time swimming, or perhaps being pushed along in the water,

while others enjoyed the shore.

There is much to explore about the texture and plasticity of water and sand.

Later Mimi joined us for a picnic (see previous post for fingernail painting part of said picnic).

We sat in the shade looking out at the lake and sky, enjoying the breeze.

It was a fine day to be out at the beach.

In which we are all Rats

"The Rat ... stooped and unfastened a rope and hauled on it; then lightly stepped into a little boat which the Mole had not observed. It was painted blue outside and white within, and was just the size for two animals; and the Mole's whole heart went out to it at once, even though he did not yet fully understand its uses.

The Rat sculled smartly across and made fast. Then he held up his forepaw as the Mole stepped gingerly down. `Lean on that!' he said. `Now then, step lively!' and the Mole to his surprise and rapture found himself actually seated in the stern of a real boat.
`This has been a wonderful day!' said he, as the Rat shoved off and took to the sculls again. `Do you know, I`ve never been in a boat before in all my life.'

`What?' cried the Rat, open-mouthed: `Never been in a -- you never -- well I -- what have you been doing, then?'
`Is it so nice as all that?' asked the Mole shyly, though he was quite prepared to believe it as he leant back in his seat and surveyed the cushions, the oars, the rowlocks, and all the fascinating fittings, and felt the boat sway lightly under him.

`Nice? It's the only thing,' said the Water Rat solemnly, as he leant forward for his stroke. `Believe me, my young friend, there is nothing -- absolute nothing -- half so much worth doing as simply messing about in boats. Simply messing,' he went on dreamily: `messing -- about -- in -- boats; messing -- -- '

`Look ahead, Rat!' cried the Mole suddenly.
It was too late. The boat struck the bank full tilt. The dreamer, the joyous oarsman, lay on his back at the bottom of the boat, his heels in the air.

` -- about in boats -- or with boats,' the Rat went on composedly, picking himself up with a pleasant laugh. `In or out of 'em, it doesn't matter. Nothing seems really to matter, that's the charm of it.

Whether you get away, or whether you don't; whether you arrive at your destination or whether you reach somewhere else, or whether you never get anywhere at all, you're always busy, and you never do anything in particular; and when you've done it there's always something else to do, and you can do it if you like, but you'd much better not.

Look here! If you've really nothing else on hand this morning, supposing we ... have a long day of it?'

The Mole waggled his toes from sheer happiness, spread his chest with a sigh of full contentment, and leaned back blissfully into the soft cushions. `What a day I'm having!' he said. `Let us start at once!' "

Text from The Wind in The Willows, by Kenneth Grahame

Fiddler on the Beach...reflections on a week with family in a beach cottage

(Sheldon Harnick wrote the original song "Sunrise, sunset" for Fiddler on the Roof)

" Sunrise,

Sunset,

swiftly flow the days....

Is this the little girl I carried?
Is this the little boy at play?

I don't remember growing older

When did they?

When did she get to be a beauty?

When did he grow to be so tall?

Wasn't it yesterday when they were small?

Sunrise,

sunset

swifly flow the days..."