Robert and I had a terrific time yesterday. We woke up bright and early (10 o’clock a.m. is early for us on a weekend) and drove down to a boathouse on Lake Union. We rented a kayak built for two. After a brief lesson on how to get into the unsteady contraption and how to handle the oars, we set off on an adventure. Many other people had headed to the lake and were coasting about in their sailboats and motorboats. There were a few ferries and cargo boats heading out for rougher waters as well. We hugged the coastline so we wouldn’t get in the way of these bigger and faster vessles. We drifted past the historical Skansonia ferryboat and then skimmed past Gasworks Park where a group of young people tapped out wild rhythms on bongos. A little further on, we found ourselves amidst some houseboats. Robert and I were intrigued by the idea of living in one. Of course, the floating homes looked especially appealing because it was sunny out and people were lazing about their decks or tending to huge tubs of flowers and herbs. I don’t imagine it’s quite as pleasant when the rains are beating down and the waves are pounding furiously against the sides of the homes. We attempted to make it all the way to the Fremont bridge, but our out-of-shape bodies just weren’t up to the challenge. I started whining because I thought my mouse-arm was going to be permanently crippled. Lord forbid I lose the double-clicking ability. While trying to decide what to do next, Robert and I started a water fight, thoroughly soaking one another and nearly capsizing the boat. It was the most fun I’ve had in ages. We slowly made our way back to the boathouse, pointing out other interesting sites or laughing at other kayakers who seemed to be having just as difficult time as we were.