Relative Something

We are thoroughly enjoying friends and family for a couple of days before most everyone will return to their respective homes and Cyndie and I will linger in our paradise for the week. Yesterday was filled with activity on the lake. We went kayaking and got close to one of the young eagles perched in a dead tree. It presented a beautiful sight when it finally spread its wings and leapt to fly with the (most likely) sibling that had floated into the vicinity over the bay. We swam a bit after we got back to our beach, and then, when the gusts of wind seemed sufficient, hopped on the catamaran sailboat that was recently added to the collection of boats on the beach. The wind was inconsistent, but we enjoyed a few good runs that more than sufficed to make it a special treat.

After more lounging on the beach, there was some tubing and skiing to be had with the speedboat, and then, as more folks arrived to the beach, plenty of silly roughhouse play on the floating rafts. I played some guitar. We played a few card games, and a round of Scrabble. Then it was Coop’s Pizza for dinner, picked up and brought back to the cabin.

This morning, the youngest nephew, Beck, (almost 4-years-old) came downstairs looking for me, since everyone else was up communing in the porch. I was in the bathroom. He knocked, and when established it was me, announced, “I’m going to wait right here for you.”

Then, “Are you pooping?”

Who can deny such an innocent question? I affirmed my activity and then gave him a play-by-play that I was washing my hands. We marched together up to the porch where he gladly pronounced what he had found me to be doing. That was a big hit with the crowd.