***

9:41 p.m., Saturday

I couldn’t stay long enough for it to get dark enough to dance naked in the moonlight. The gals who remained behind will have to do my share.

Five of us strolled down to the water and waded in — they were all in bathing suits, and I wished I’d thought to wear something to swim in too — as soon as I arrived. For at least an hour we chatted as light glinted off the water into our eyes. Back at the cabin, we cooled off on a shady new deck after a good meal and a glass of wine, followed by herb tea. By 9:00, I was yawning and wishing I was home and maybe my sweetie would be here — and he is — but he’s on the phone talking to his best buddy, so I’ve a few minutes to try to catch up on recent events worth reporting for posterity’s sake.

***

We would have arrived right on time to get Don to camp for lunch, but had a small setback. We’d stopped at a convenience store for a bathroom break and to ask directions to the camp. Don had just climbed out of the van and picked up his crutches, when for some reason he fell backward and hit his head on a small stone. I was inside the store, on my way out, when through the glass door I saw him half-sitting, half-laying on the ground, with a three-inch-wide swath of blood soaking his hair and running down the side of his neck. I think my heart would have stopped but for the fact that I could see Farmbeau behind him, propping him up, and not looking panicked.

I found out what happened and took a look at the wound while Farmbeau went in for something to staunch the bleeding. I, fool, for some reason took it into my head that I had to get Don off the ground, and proceeded to pick him up from from behind and then, clumsily and with some effort because he weighs more than me and his body is stiffer than most, propelled him upward and forward in short bursts until he was standing.

It was a foolish thing to do, because he was heavier and harder to lift than I expected, and we both could have fallen. At the very least, it’s a miracle I didn’t hurt my back or something.

It was only a small nick in the scalp, maybe a quarter-inch long. We drove him to the hospital emergency room. His biggest concern was that he was delayed getting to camp. He worried that if he had to get a stitch, it might hurt. I told him it might sting a couple of times, that’s all, and he went back to worrying about being late for lunch.

Poor jigger. He was fine and all, but ... just that it can happen so quickly, so easily ... and could have been so much worse, had he hit his head on the cement flowerpot not six inches from his head ... or he could have broken his arm again if he’d fallen wrong ... it’s an unpleasant reminder of how vulnerable he is, though we think he’s so independent. Farmbeau watched it happen from the other side of the glass door, and said that although Don appeared to fall in slow motion, he couldn’t get there in time to catch him.

It seemed to Farmbeau that in his excitement about everything yesterday, Don had thrown himself backward in a sort of muscle spasm after he’d put his crutches on his arms, and maybe was hurrying and not paying attention as he ought to.

Several hours later, long after we’d dropped Don off at camp with his counsellors, I realized I had still not really exhaled. And even though I know Dave is there to handle any problems that could arise from it -- the “glue” stitch the nurse put in was not to be gotten wet for a couple days, but otherwise it was expected to keep the cut closed; or what if he hit his head harder than we thought? — I phoned the camp office today, just to inquire how my boy was doing. The counsellor thought he was enjoying himself, and wasn’t aware of any problems with the ‘stitch,’ so I said okay fine, that’s all I wanted to hear. I was sure his dad would take care of things, anyway, if need be, but ... I’m a mother. What can I say.

Farmbeau asked me tonight after I got home if I hadn’t phoned to check; he knows me pretty well.

***

I love being at the lake. I love the smell. I love the water. I love the sand. I love the trees. All I want is a lakefront cabin and a canoe. Oh, and world peace.