On Wednesday, we drove to Lake Tahoe. This was another of Leisa's memories from years ago. "We had a bar of soap, and needed to take a bath, so we did it in Lake Tahoe. I remember swimming out to this big rock." The rest is NSFW.

We stopped for lunch at a brewery that only had two beers. It was pretty decent, although the service was slow to the point of worthless. Brittany and Sarah are fixated on pirates and skulls, probably because of the new "Pirates of teh Caribbean" movie with Jack Partridge from the Partridge Family.

Oops. Wrong bird! It's "sparrow," "Jack Sparrow."

They thought the saw a souvenir shop with skull t-shirts, so we drove up and down the street several times, to no avail. We got out of the car and walked around and snapped a few pictures. [I'm lame. I'd been messing with the camera the previous evening, and set the White Balance to tungsten, and neglected to set it back. The next few photos have a blue cast to them. I'm sorry. I'll be happy to refund your purchase price--oh, wait, you didn't pay anything to look at these pictures. Deal with it.] It gives them a kind of neat looking old faded photograph look, though, like something that's been stashed away in a box for 35 years.

And this one's also way over-exposed. I kind of like the look, though.

From the state line, it was down to the lake.

L, B & S, lower left. Blue cast, I'm lame.

Based on the lack of fully-immersed swimmers, I'm forced to conclude that the water is "fricken' cold." We'll see more pictures of the children on the beach in a day or two.

An obligatory picture of the Wake-up Bunny.

As we were leaving the lake, a dog approached Sparky! We soon realized  that the dog was lost (read, "when it hopped in our car"). We tried the numbers on the collar tags, but only got busy signals or the night service for the vet's office. We ended up dropping her off at the animal shelter, who scanned her microchip and began trying to contact the owner.

We headed back down the hill to Carson, and eventually back to crapshack 2, where visions of San Francisco danced in our weary heads.