more from hay lake

It was a strangely beautiful day--very, very hot, sunlight absolutely golden in the trees and on the water.

At our cabin, the lake isn't deep.  It's a flowage, a river runs through the lake, controlled by a dam.  It's only about fifteen feet deep at the deepest spot.

This lake of Jay's parents is in northern Minnesota,and was cut in by an ancient glacier, deep in the middle, eighty feet or more.   There are multiple springs feeding this lake.

 It's not deep along this sandy shore in front of the house.

 Julia wanted pictures of their jumps. I tried, floating on my tube.

 That's Tim's landing, pretty great.

 This weekend swimming brings up an old story, very old.   Way back in the day we drove up to the lake, and as we rounded the curve on the dirt toad over by the boat access, our dog threw up on my lap. I'm thinking this was about 1983.

It was Tammy, our standard poodle.  Lord Have Mercy.

I asked him to stop the car, and ran down the boat landing into the water to rinse off my jeans.

As I ran into the water, madly rinsing, Jay came leaning across the passenger seat, hollering out the door,

"VAL!  THE DROP OFF!  STOP!  There's a DROP OFF!"

I did not run over the drop off.  Plus, I do know how to swim.

But, yeah.

 Here they are, swimming with Grandma:

 And John's family came on Friday, so we got to see these guys, which was great.

 And that little girl and her mom:

Okay, it's very late.  Time for bed.

love forever, Val