Church Island

This past weekend the Man and I had a long weekend in NH. We arrived Thursday morning and his parents came up on Saturday, before we left to go to a bbq at one of the man's college friend's house. Here's some of the weekend:

 We went to some local shops and checked out their tchotchkes and got yummy sandwiches.

 We went out in the boat with the Man's parents. Little Squam is pretty and usually not terribly crowded.

 The Man looked all cool and Miami Vice with his sunglasses and 3-day scruff. BAD ASS.

 We went to Church Island, which is (duh) a tiny island on the lake that has church services July-August. It's also the location of the first Boy Scout troop. And, it seems that the Man's mom kind of set us up because it became clear that the purpose of the trip was to show us that maybe we'd like to get married there some day. Soon. The Man's mom is a good lady.

 To her credit, it is a very cool island, and a beautiful, peaceful sanctuary. I can see why people love it.

 The light through the trees: not bad.

And then the Man went water skiing. Because he has to be run two hours a day or he gets cranky and destructive like a Border Collie. Good, Man. Good.