First off, my husband and I want to express our appreciation to all of our friends for their support during our recent tragedy… and always for that matter.  You all mean more to me than you will ever know.  Thank you.

We were due for some fun and some sun and fortunately for our sanity this weekend provided both.  My husband got off work at 6 AM on Thursday morning so I got up at 5:30 to start getting things loaded and my gardens watered.  He showered and got ready and we hit the road.  

My girlfriend Jack was coming out to spend the weekend which lit a fire under our (his) butt to get the cabin sleepable.  We moved our bed in and while my husband slept I puttered around our site watering plants, painting an old bedside table and prepping veggies for the stir-fry he requested for dinner.  I just have to say here that I don’t like cooking at the lake, I am happy with sandwiches and salads but somebody prefers “real” food so once in a while I must appease his stomach and make an effort that does not involve the lips and arseholes of cows and pigs stuffed into tubular casings.

By about noon I had all of my chores done so I took the dog for a stroll.  She had been bugging me all morning to take her swimming which involves her dancing around me and heading for the water every time I move.  I am not sure why she won’t go by herself, she always waits for one of us, maybe it’s a security thing… or she just wants to show off her mad diving skillz.  We walked down to the dock and I dangled my feet.  It’s been hot out so the water was lovely.  I thought I might like to take a dip but didn’t feel like making the trek back to camp and didn’t want to wake my husband in order to put my suit on.  I could just strip down and go in my skivvies, I thought.  There was nobody around.  The water was so inviting I was about to shed some clothing when I glanced up the hill and saw my husband staring down at me.  He laughed, it was like he read my mind.  “Go ahead.” he said as he walked down toward me.  “There is nobody else out here.”

I didn’t need a lot of encouragement.  I slipped out of my garments and dove into the water.  It felt fantastic.  My happy place is in that water (as cold as it can be) and add to that the freedom of nudity and I am a joyful, carefree girl.  My elation however was short lived.  I heard a quad.  Someone was heading in our direction.  FUUUUUCCCKKKK!!!!

It was a young couple from the other side of the causeway, they were touring around just across the small harbor from where I was fluffydipping (because when I do it there is nothing “skinny” about it).  I imagined the view they’d get if I did have to scramble from the water.  Without a ladder on the dock I would have to drag my fluffy white arse up onto the wooden structure like some sort of seal begging a fish from the trainer… lovely.  Before I had a chance to panic and send my husband for a towel to at least shield me from the mortification of getting caught naked, the quad turned around and headed in the other direction.  I wasted no time getting out of the water, in fact I exited so quickly I ended up with a couple of slivers in some not so comfortable places.  I threw my clothes back on and just as we began to walk back to the cabin my aunt came around the corner in her Jeep.  Apparently the days of frequent island nudity are over… and with that goes the picnic table sex.  *sigh*

That first night in the cabin was heavenly after a year in the Bluebird Hilton.  The bus was stinky, cramped and the temperature was too hot on warm days and too cold at night.  Our new bedroom has a lovely cross breeze and it’s well insulated so it stays relatively cool during the day and a little heat goes a long way.  It’ll need little more than a candle to keep it warm even on cold days.

On Friday we did the flooring and wainscoting and moved a futon in for Jack.  By the time she arrived we were beat so we all went to bed early.  Jack has been having a rough time lately too, she and her husband are splitting up and their house goes on the market tomorrow.  She needed a weekend of fun and relaxation as badly (or more) than we did.  There has been nothing but basic civility between her and her husband for a very long time, I didn’t know whether to laugh or cry when she flicked a bug off my boob and told me that was the most action she’s had in years.  

We hung out all day on Saturday, mostly in the water, and got in some real visiting time (and some sunburns).  Jack only lives a few hours away and we do talk on the phone regularly, but nothing is like real face to face conversation.  I always forget how much I miss her until I spend time with her again.  She is as close to a sister as I have.

On Sunday Trix and her family arrived, they had spent the majority of the weekend out of town but since we all love Jack we all took Monday off in her honor to spend that extra day with her.  Trixie had had a rough weekend and was looking forward to a few paralyzers.  A bottle of Kahlua, a bottle of vodka later we ran out of milk so we completely freaked out my cousin Dee when we asked her if we could have some of hers… we tried to convince her that we needed it more than the baby did.  She left shortly after that, I hope she didn’t really think we’d milk her.

It got a little drunk out after that.  My husband has a pair of shorts with little white skulls on them.  When the shorts get wet the skulls turn blue.  I took great joy in splashing him at every opportunity and excusing my behavior as “Look at the skulls turning blue!”  It wasn’t long before Jack and ten year old John got into it and the water fight was on.  John switched teams from Jack to His Highness depending on who was winning at the time and it was after a short chase down to the dock that all of the skulls turned blue when my husband got pushed in.  When he got back to camp he chased John with a lighter threatening to torch him (nice!) and swatted Jack’s ass with a fly swatter.  She did admit that it was almost as exciting as touching my breast.

As Trix and I stumbled back from one of our many trips to the outhouse that night we discovered a can of yellow spray paint at her brother’s place.  She picked it up and proceeded to “paint” my toe nails.  We doubled over laughing as I reciprocated by painting hers. .. Though technically I got more of her feet than her toes.  Then, giggling like the drunken fools we were, we raced back to the outhouse to ambush Jack’s toes too.  There we were all three of us with fluorescent yellow spray painted feet.  Somehow I doubt our pedicure clients would have appreciated the artistry.

I was surprised to wake up without a hangover yesterday morning and my day started with more giggling when I got out of bed and saw my glow-in-the-dark piggies.  Sadly Jack didn’t fare as well.  She got up, threw up and went back to bed three times before she managed to keep some Gatorade and some Advil down long enough to feel better.  “Never again!” she wailed, “I am too old for this!  And how the hell do I get this shit off my feet?!”

The panacea for our collective woes was a weekend of fun and frivolity and limited responsibilities.  

The remedy for said weekend was some Gatorade, Advil and paint thinner.