Swim, swam, swum.

Last week Luke took a day off. Gasp! Shocking, I know. Aside from the fact that we had to use this day to make a run to a far off Les Schwab to retrieve a few tires, it was a lovely break from the norm.

On our way to Napa, we made a stop at Lake Del Valle in Livermore. With very few lakes close by to let Jackson pursue his dream of becoming the next (ah, crap...what's that swimmer guy's name? You know, the Olympian weed smokin' one? Phelps!!!!) Michael Phelps, we take every opportunity we can to let him put those webbed paws to use.

This is the lake. It's no Folsom, or Tahoe, or Bullard's Bar, or Rollins, or Scott's Flat, or not that it's obvious I miss living near lakes or anything....But it's nice. A little small, but on a Wendesday morning it was drunk idiot free. I like that quality in a lake.

Our little piece of shoreline...

After we surveyed the place and found a good spot, we proceeded to lose 2 tennis balls to the current and an easily distracted dog. Thank you, Tractor Supply Company for carrying .99 cent tennis balls. Otherwise, I would be broke. Destitute. On the street, I tell ya.

Two confused peas in a pod.

"Can somebody get this leash outta my dog pit, please?!"

Just keep swimming, just keep swimming....

Passed out on the drive home...

And that's the truth of the matter. Although Jackson loves the swimming, we also love the exhausted hours of quiet that follow. What is it that people say? A tired dog is a good dog. Good night.