[He huffed, irritable all over again.]

It's hardly beach weather, and the lake is a little far out there.

[It also means camping. Without a bed. Or central air.

And critters. Ew. His hair would be ruined, and he didn't care for the idea of whacking his boots against a tree before he put them on in the morning.

Although the offer of affectionate support was welcome, all Barnaby could do at that point was set the book and pencil down wearily. He had been patient, but that had faded as the days wore on.]

I'm going to file a complaint with management. This is too far.