Sophie is going to the lake.
Not just any lake. A lake with water.
A lake with water that she can swim in.
Lake Mississagagon
Not just any lake. A lake with water.
A lake with water that she can swim in.
Lake MississagagonThat's not our boat, or dock, or even camping chair.
But it is photo of the lake Sophie intends to spend her weekend in.
She will be staying in a rustic cottage,
which we all know means kind of crappy and uncivilized.
She will have to endure 3.5 hours in the car, both ways,
which we all know will make her bum leaky,
although she doesn't like to talk about it.
BUT
She is going to swim, chase balls, eat outdoors, drink beer around a campfire.
Well, okay, she's not going to drink beer.
Anyone who knows Ms. Brador, knows she prefers a vodka martini, shaken on ice with a splash of cointreau and zest of lime. But it doesn't really congeal with the whole rustic image, you know. Oh it's hard to break out of that diva, city girl thing.
Glorious end of summer. On to the new boots and sweaters. Woo hoo!
Okay, that's about me, not Sophie. Sophie is a nudist. Remember?








