Nothing Says Love Like...

Nothing says love like a sixty-two year old man blowing up an inflatable rubber dingy with a hole in it so that his granddaughter can use it for a whole fifteen minutes.  Maybe there are better images to articulate the concept, but that's a pretty good one.

On Thursday Camp Zed invaded Ipperwash Beach...wait, invaded probably isn't the most prudent use of language considering it's Ipperwash...Camp Zed meandered up to Ipperwash Beach on the shores of beautiful Lake Huron and commenced to getting it's groove on.  We visited Zed's grandpa, Pops, and generally mulled about doing not much of anything except playing on the beach.



If you've never been to Ipperwash Beach then I just feel sorry for you.  You can drive out with your car, stake a claim on a sweet spot no less than a few feet from the water, set up a tent, a shelter, an umbrella, whatever...and enjoy your day.  It's a beauty day if there ever was such a thing.



It was a nice way to spend a day at camp whilst Dad is recovering from more setbacks in his rehab.  It seems that rarely does one instrument play without the whole orchestra joining in, and so while the knee is improving, gait and posture, rehab efforts etc...have left my back, neck and shoulders tight, and out-of whack.  Chiropractic visits and stretching, and NSAIDs, and even a visit to the doctor to check on what seemed to be an inflamed lymph node or thyroid in my neck have all taken their toll and left Camp Zed's Director and only staff a flimsy shell of himself.   He even had a billion (okay, twelve) needles sticking out of him yesterday in an effort to remedy some of the madness.  Regardless, day trips in which others can help with the weighty task of delivering Camp Zed awesomeness has been a life saver.  A visit to Pops and Ipperwash Beach was just that, and a hundred times more as it was just nice to see Grandpa and Granddaughter having fun.  My father used to get into hockey fights for fun, and now he blows up inflatable beach toys (with holes) for excited little girls.  It's a weird, weird life, but a good one.

Now, if we can just get Daddy all back together in one solid piece. I'm not the least it interested in my story ending like Humpty-Dumpty's did.  There's the business of camp to run.