Lake Norfork, Arkansas
I’m ready to start counting down the days – only about 160 more sleeps. I may even make one of those paper chains – the kind my sister and I made in December, when we were kids counting down the days to Santa Claus. Only this time I’ll make it from coordinating cool scrapbooking paper and recycled gift wrap, with a bit of vintage card stock thrown in. I’ll weave it tastefully down the stair railing like my red berry Christmas garland, removing one link a day. Naturally, I’ll snap a picture of it for my Facebook timeline. It will be clever and crafty and someone will ‘Pin It’ to one of their style boards. Only 160 days until THE LAKE!
|Ferry @ Lake Norfork|
|Tate driving Miss Stalya
(and channeling Thomas Tate)
One of our favorite places on the lake is “The Island”. Near Jordan Marina, it has white sugary sand like the beaches of the Gulf Coast. It’s a glorious spot on this Earth. We always pick one day during our week to spend on the island – usually toward the end of our stay when we are good and sunburned. We load up the Miss Stalya with floats and chips and coolers of iced down water and wine coolers and head out. It’s on the other side of the lake and takes Miss Stalya a while to get there. (This is the only time and place we EVER drink wine coolers. It just fits. Our favorite is the Berry, but in a pinch we will drink those Smirnoff ones that sorta taste like colonoscopy prep. Everything tastes better on the lake.) Tate, our resident Eagle Scout and certified lifeguard, is charged with building the fire for our annual hot dog roast. Actually, Tate is in charge of everything now – driving, hauling Nana in and out of the boat, anchoring the boat, retrieving the boat when it floats off, and making sure no one drowns. It’s good to have an Eagle Scout. The island hot dogs are perfection – unevenly charred, juicy and fat, smothered in yellow French’s mustard – none of that fancy brown spicy stuff on the island. Oh and they have that perfect sprinkling of obligatory sandy grit that only comes from authentic island grilling. Delish!
We recently discovered that our mother has never jumped off those cliffs. We figure she’s grandfathered at this point, plus she wants her ashes sprinkled off that cliff someday – the ultimate jump. We’ll have to modify our plans. We were already planning a viking funeral for her in the Miss Stalya.