Each year during the summer I’ve heard myself telling people my weekend plans are “going up to the lake.”
Usually this elicits confused looks. As though there are many lakes in Ohio and they don’t know which one I’m referencing.
It never occurred to me “the lake” could be anything other than Lake Erie. You know; one of the Great Lakes.
There may be many other lakes in the state, but no others are so large that:
- you cannot possibly see across them
- gigantic ships have sunk in them
- crossing them takes you to another country
All attributes worthy of adding a “the” onto an otherwise common noun.
The fiance’s family has a cottage west of Sandusky so it’s a lucky weekend when we can borrow it and go on a mini weekend get-away. My future brother-in-law and his girlfriend were up for the week so we went and joined them for the weekend.
We headed up Friday night, and after throwing our stuff in the cottage, we jumped in the boat and buzzed over to the boys’ uncle’s house to see what was going on. His garage is the place to be–it was packed with random people stopping by via car or boat, and he just bought a new boat so everyone wanted a chance to check it out.
We headed back to the cottage after a while and ended up staying awake lake visiting with a neighbor from across the street. He worked for RTA in Cleveland for years and knows every good hole-in-the-wall concert venue, pub, restaurant and more. We get around the food scene in Cleveland, but we know nothing compared to this guy. I was emailing and texting things he recommended to myself the whole time he was talking and can’t wait to update my Cleveland ‘to do’ list with all his suggestions.
The guys went fishing Saturday morning so I slept in a little and then went for a long jog. I was really proud of myself–I was out for about an hour and a half–but I opted for my nano over my cell phone so I couldn’t track my run and see exactly how far I went. That app has been great for when we’re biking too, but I need some place to put things I’m carrying. I’m not a hard core biker or runner so I need to do some research.
By the time I was back and cleaned up, the guys were back and we hung out with another neighbor we hadn’t seen in a while as we fired up the grill for lunch.
It was an awesome, lazy afternoon and we finally made our way back to the boat to cruise over to Sandusky. It was Bike Week there, but we weren’t interested in the crowds. We docked at Lyman Harbor–one of the locations we considered for our wedding–and headed in to the pub. There were three weddings taking place while we were there, and I was able to peek into the one reception hall to see if there were any cool decor ideas. I didn’t get much. We were also glad we didn’t go with that location–it was fun for us as visitors, but I’m not sure I would want random people getting off their boats and walking along the outdoor ceremony and then hanging out inside peering at us during the reception. I think ours will be much more private, which makes me happy.
We went back to the cottage for an evening jam session, which consisted mostly of Mark learning to play the bass while we read, ate and threw out song suggestions. I was exhausted so it was an early night.
The guys went fishing again Sunday morning, and I was up early. I made coffee and finished my book– perfect.
When they got back, we packed up and left before lunch to get down to Cuyahoga Falls to catch the last day of the Riverfront Irish Festival. One of the Irish bands I love hasn’t played the festival for a couple years because of schedule conflicts, but they performed this year and I really wanted to see them live again.
We grabbed some food and got seats in the shade down by the pavilion in time for their hour-long set.
It was awesome. Some of the songs brought tears to my eyes.
Every year we go, and although it’s by no means an authentic festival, there is something about some of the music that seems to creep up on me and the next thing I know I am yearning for Ireland and can hardly keep from crying. I don’t think that country, my time there or the experiences I had will ever let me go. I can’t wait to go back some day.
It was nice getting home at a decent time– we didn’t have to rush in unpacking, catching up on laundry and spending quality time with the cat.
Someday we hope to have our own place “up at the lake,” but in the meantime, these lazy weekends will have to do.
2 thoughts on “Going Up to the Lake”
Great post. Now I want to hang out with you…. does that make me a follower?
Nothing wrong with be a follower in certain contexts! Thanks for reading and congrats on your move to Cleveland– CLE is the best; you are going to love it here!!