So, Mama Syd and Papa Chris are back in the sweltering oven that is California and we are back at home attempting to keep Monday from jumping the fence and biting the neighbors (true story) but I have a BOAT load of pics from the lake.
I’m proud of myself for saying “BOAT” as opposed to a body part that also starts with a “b.” Well, I was proud until I pointed out I was proud.
Dang.
Anyway, I am putting these up for posterity a) because I can and b) because that’s what Iron Creek is all about. It’s like one of those spots on the wall where you mark your height, measuring your growth except on a much larger scale. Perhaps it is because we visit at certain times and take part in the same traditions that make the growth the lake measures so pronounced and recognizable. One year someone can’t open the gate alone and the next they are raking in tips hand over fist. Last year it’s the Strider as the ride of choice and this year it’s the bike. Whatever it is – marshmallow roasting, shooting, eating, the Store – there is always a lot of “And just think! Last year you . . . ”
I love it.
That’s why I’m recording our trip up Jungle Road. Remember last year’s hike?
This year was without Jac (boo) but on an absolutely perfect day (yay). Max, having grown into a real kid, took the high road with Papa while the younger three followed the Jungle path with Mama Syd and I. Philip hiked the whole way in his jammies and didn’t complain once. Well, almost. He did kind of freak out about Monday getting lost.
Monday was along! That was different from last year . . .
And to think, Tess was the one who was in the backpack last year while Ellie slept in the Moby. She was sooo tiny! Now she yelled and pointed at things with the rest of them.
How time flies.
