. . . and one who is, but more on that later.

This past week, David and I had an opportunity to sit in on a Big Band and Swing music class with Helen and John and about twenty other octogenarians. Lots of reminiscing and YouTube videos of smooth singers and timeless tunes. Must have been that that made me think of the title for today’s post.

David and I are behavin’–sort of. Admittedly in a vacation-mentality kind of way, meaning too much rich food and strong drink and not nearly enough strenuous exercise. We are walking some–not nearly as much as in France–but the most strenuous part is swatting at mosquitoes and deer flies and flailing with the zapper racquet trying to defend ourselves. Despite that, we are definitely enjoying this leg of the adventure.

The weather is behavin’ most of the time, enough that Helen* could open the roof deck, and I could get this shot of one of my favorite rooms anywhere:

And it was nice enough to tempt a loon out during full daylight, close enough to the dock to get a semi-decent shot:

The wind was behavin’ enough that the sailors were happy.

(Cousin) Jennie’s dogs were behavin’ enough to get a float-ride:

But THIS guy is definitely misbehavin’ every chance he gets.

He must have read the last post, especially the part about never giving up, because he is relentless. I could learn from him (the persistence, not the thieving).

*David’s mom Helen is still camera-shy, sorry to report, but behavin’ at least as well as the rest of us!

Besides all the family, who have now mostly gone their separate ways, there are plenty of other photo opportunities. The animals here provide some photographic challenges. Like this little guy:

The chipmunk above and left, darts around so quickly, I had to use sport mode to capture a decent shot (and delete about thirty useless shots–gotta love digital cameras).

This heron hangs around periodically, mostly when I do NOT have my camera, but I managed to snap one decent shot (and only had to delete six or seven).

This duck is much easier. She’s constantly swimming around the dock and practically posing for close-ups. Note how clear and beautiful the water is here.

And I managed to sneak up on this little merganser family:

No such luck so far with getting close enough to the loons for a good photo.  They’re out on the bay most evenings and you can hear their haunting cry late into the night and sometimes at dawn, but I’d need a longer lens and a tripod (or a really quiet boat). Still, as I’ve learned from this tree . . .

. . . NEVER give up!

Seriously. Never.

Lake life in July involves late nights that start with gorgeous evenings

. . . after days on the dock and in the lake . . .

. . . cocktails on the deck . . .

. . . or booze cruises . . .

. . . a lot of family, including extended family . . .

. . . dinners by a rotating cast of chefs . . .

. . . followed by more late nights . . .

and enough talking, laughing, and catching up to hold us through till next year.

Most have gone their own way by now, and it’s getting quieter here by the day as more depart, but we have treasured the time together.