We've just come back from the family cabin my dad and uncle built in 76.
At the beginning we had a bunch of friends up with their families and it was soo nice.
Memories of my childhood flashed with scenes of 6 or more children playing at the lake side in varying degrees of deep water know how. All from Raquel (the youngest) to Mattias the oldest either leading the way with modified paddle boards or chucking pebbles from the safety of shore. The weather was hot and the water was warm, but somehow children kept arriving with sandy feet up at the cabin with blue lips and shivering demanding their parent get them warm. Only to shortly disappear to reappear for another warming.
Again I remember my cousins brother and I all playing at the water as long as we could keep a parent down at the beach..
Actually, I think I most remember the reason the cabin looks as it does now.
'Forced child labour'.
HA! Cordelia is just shy of her work term. I was able to talk her into doing the dishes a couple times.
Of course, much like her father before her learning the way through soap, cloth and rinsing most of the food left on the plates from the meals found it's way into the cupboards.
Mattias being the oldest bore most of my personality, poor kid.....
I feel bad about some of it other then the result of finding the cup of worms I bought for his fishing pleasure dried and shriveled baking in the sun after I twice reminded him on two consecutive days to be sure to put away into the fridge - yes of course just beside the ketchup and mustard.
Then there was the time I talked him (forced) into sailing with me.
We were originally headed to borrow seadoos for some high adrenaline gas powered fun, but the wind started up as we motored down the lake to our neighbours world of speed and expensive machinery. When I ask if he wanted to sail I get the NO almost instantly.
I asked if he's in a position to say NO when I was about to take him on the ride of his life?
I didn't realize then it was to be with the boat with small old sails and a 2 horse putter off the back to do it
As the sails go up, so do the gusts and very unpredictably I might add.
We manage the first few very well and the boat lumbers on at a steep lean till a very quiet patch runs through.
The sails basically go flat and the boat sits lifeless for a few moments. I can see another big blast making it's way down the lake for us, so I attempt to angle the boat to take the wind and accelerate into it once it arrives. I had already started the count down for Mattias to hold on and start hiking, when the wind hits us from the other direction pushing the sails across and the boat sideways. I start to panic and do my best to fight it as with a quick look over my shoulder I realize we must be in that gust I had been following toward us. I had just ducked the boom to the wrong side as the perceived direction of the wind finally hits. I wasn't quite ready and take the boom off the back of my head in a glancing bongggggg. The boat is hammered, at a glance Mattias is basically climbing up the seats set perpendicular to the lake to the high side of the boat. I didn't know it then but my feet were deep in the water pouring in the lee side of the boat. I veered up into the wind and let go the main as best I could. Just as quick as the initial wind hit us we are up and dead to wind with the sails flapping violently. The boat felt like it was being chewed at by the lake as it pressured into the water as the wind rushed at us and over the haul. I ask if Mattias was OK. His eyes large he admitted that was far more scary then ripping down the lake at 60+km/hr on a seadoo. We had to wait out another big pressure gust pointed safely into the wind before the sails went down quickly .
One of the typical mornings Raquel would head down to the beach before the noon sun would come out past our few remaining large trees root rot, progress or a concerned neighbour hasn't felled.
She'd grab a bucket and fill it with some rocks buried under the sand walk to the edge and throw.
Over and over.
She started the week with the drool and swallowing issues directly related to Ren letting her walk around with a dried piece of flat bread the day before we left. Seems a small piece made it past and messed her up. There was a discussion on that subject I can tell you.
Then mid week Karl was chasing her on the deck. I could hear them and the moment I thought to myself, wonder when she gets her first big body blister on the trip? Her feet fumbled and down she went.
The next day I devised a very simple knee pad that kept her great the rest of the time.
Now home she's as bright and as happy as I think she's ever been.