With my dad's help, I have uploaded new pictures for your viewing pleasure. Apparently it was in the nick of time, too -- I just saw that Ian is officially singing the blues in our absence. Hopefully, these pictures will help to tide him over until Tuesday.
We went up to Syringa Lake yesterday, and Max got to taste his native Canadian sands. (Okay, so his native sands are technically in Davis, but I like to think that the Canadian gene is dominant. Science is hard at work trying to prove me right as we speak.) He found them gritty but refreshing, and went back for several helpings.
Max was eager to dive right into the lake, despite its rather severe chilliness. I seem to have lost some of my inherent Canadian tolerance for cold lake water, because I was more reluctant to soak myself. My friend, Pale-Guy-In-Too-Short-Swim-Trunks (seen in a charming rear-view shot behind me), is an example of heroically taking on the lake that I hope to one day emulate.
I did ease on in eventually, and Max and I enjoyed a brisk swim. Max's hat is on loan from my godmother. As a fun game, see if you can spot the Corona beer logo on it.
I did not bring a diaper for Max, preferring to let him have a more direct and personal encounter with Lake Syringa. I discovered something interesting about diapers. When you are not wearing them, your pants are somewhat more inclined to hang low, or even to drift away with the tide. Weird.