Lake, Don't Leave

We went camping at Webber Lake over the weekend with Nick's family. 

Our seven-year old niece, an up-and-coming singer/songwriter, performed an original piece around the campfire Friday night. It went something like this:

Stars, don't leave, don't leave, don't leave

Don't leave, don't leave, don't leave

Don't leave, don't leave, don't leave, stars

Stars, don't leave.

Clouds, don't leave, don't leave, don't leave

Don't leave, don't leave, don't leave

Don't leave, don't leave, don't leave, clouds

Clouds, don't leave...

On Sunday morning I told her she should make up a song about Webber Lake and perform it for everyone. She did and it went a little something like this:

Lake, don't leave, don't leave, don't leave

Don't leave, don't leave, don't leave

Because we like to eat fish

So don't take away our happi-ness

Lake, don't leave.

Waterfall, don't leave, don't leave, don't leave

Don't leave, don't leave, don't leave...

Someone, being a smart ass, then challenged her to write a song that incorporated everyone's name. As only a true competitor can, she rose to the challenge. She thought about her new lyrics for a second and sang:

Don't leave, don't leave, don't leave, Mer-yl

Don't leave, don't leave, don't leave, Mo-om

Don't leave, don't leave, don't leave, Dad

Don't leave, don't leave, don't leave, Jo-hn... 

Seven-year olds are so smart. 

On Saturday, Nick and I took the canoe out. We normally propel through the water in a motorized fishing boat, but since it was in use, the canoe seemed like the next best thing. Even with the wind pushing against us, it was fun. For an hour and a half, we explored areas of the lake we'd never seen.

Later that night my arms started burning. I was expecting as much. Whenever I pull out the big guns to, say, hold a baby for an extended period of time or vacuum the couch a little too vigorously, I get this painfully annoying burning in my arms. It's like when you're young and experience growing pains for the first time only there's more burning and debilitation involved here.  I lay there in the tent softly whimpering, "oooooohhhhhh," "noooooooooooo," "owwwwwwch," "whyyyyy???"

I resisted taking ibuprofen for a while. We're at the point in our cycle where pregnancy is a possibility (although unlikely, I'm sure), but we won't know for a few days. During this brief period of time, I generally like to refrain from using both over the counter and illicit street drugs. I finally caved, popping 400 mgs of ibuprofen to sooth my achy arms. I lay back down in the only semi-comfortable position I could manage, like a mummy with my arms folded across my chest, and whimpered some more until I fell asleep.  

All things considered, it was a good weekend.