Heh.. Lookee That.

I wrote a blogpost a few weeks ago. And didn't publish it. Imagine that, *me* forgetting to wrap up a post? Crazy, I'm sure.

It was originally entitled, "We're Leavin'"

Yep. Road Trip.

How come I want to type "Road Trip From Hell?" there? I hope it will be fantastic. But there are just so many unknowns!

FIRST road trip (more than 2 hours) in our van (by the way, we named her Ruth).

FIRST road trip with FOUR children.

FIRST road trip to take Baby anywhere, really.

We are going to my folks' for Thanksgiving.

Oh, would you like to hear something funny? That doesn't really have to do with this story? My brother made arrangements to take his wife and darling baby girl to our folks' for Thanksgiving. So my mom got all nostalgic about the idea of having *all* the grandkids/kids there for the holiday, and called me up all excited to invite us too. I was, shall we say, less excited than she at the prospect of taking four children through mountain passes in late November. However, I agreed to talk it over with Hubby, who sounded almost like he wanted to do it. So we agreed, albeit weather permitting. My mom is thrilled, of course. My bro? Notsomuch. He calls me the next day to say, "Hey, what's with inviting yourselves to Thanksgiving? You have, like, FOUR kids, and it's going to be chaos and what the heck?" (my brother, he loves me). I laughed at first, and then asked him to think it through (and walked him through it), and he realized *I* hadn't invited us *anywhere*. So I told him to complain to Mom, and pray for bad weather (and that Mom would be praying for good weather and we could see who God loved more). :)

So anyways, weather permitting, we're going not just to my folks, but adding a hint of 'vacation' into the trip too. We'll take a long route, and spend a night where we 'vacation' when we 'vacation'. Why is it, do you suppose, that I can only type 'vacation' with those semi-quotes around it? Perhaps I don't really believe in 'vacations' any more... :) We did go there 5 years ago (we 'vacation' but rarely, see) when Big Sister was 3, and Little Artist was about 4 months old. Anyways, we're planning to drive all day, maybe stop and see an old friend, stay 1 night, enjoy our 'vacation' for half a day, and then get to my folks' by bedtime or so.

Of course, googlemaps doesn't necessarily factor in a potty-trained 2-year-old and a nursing baby on their time estimates, so...

The good news is that we'll arrive a day or two ahead of my accommodating brother, and leave a day before he does too, giving him ONE WHOLE DAY without the chaos that is our family. :P

So I'm filling up the outside of the fridge with "to do" lists and "to take" lists and all that, trying to get ready in the time we have. I excavated the toy/clothes/shoe/trash bin that our van had become, removed carseats, un-did all the straps and latches and upholstery - laundered the appropriate stuff, aired it dry, and did my best to reassemble the right parts to the right seats in the right manner. I vacuumed and windexed and spit-shined the inside of the van - right down to the rear cargo area - I even removed and laundered some of the long floor mats.

Of course, THEN I went to the feed store, where for the FIRST TIME EVER a bag of OVERLY-MOLASSESED grain BURST open and spilled all over the cargo area, bumper, and loading area of the mill. *sigh* Does MOLASSESED have another S, do you suppose? Will the heavy-handed molassifier come re-vacuum my van, do you suppose?

I have re-vamped the seating chart (keep Organique away from Baby, lest she poke out her eyes, keep those who need it within reaching distance of Mama, etc etc), upgraded Little
Artist from carseat to booster seat, reinstalled everything, and now need to figure out how and where to stash everything we'll need (reading material and knitting for the road? snacks? drinks? baby's crib and jammies handy for our 'vacation' night?), and whether or not to take the stroller, whether or not to leave the cloth diapers at home.

There's still the homefront to consider. How to keep the chickens fed and watered (they're not laying, so that's not an issue)? What about the cats? Hubby will deposit the dog and her house at a coworker's - he'll hardly notice the extra canine in the backyard I'm sure.

I'm cautiously excited; there's no such thing as "simple" in this scenario, and I'm so afraid I'll forget to take something or do something and wreck the whole deal. We'll see how it goes! :]

Aw, Crap

I'm sorry to use such strong language, especially in the title. I really am. But it really applies.

Today I woke up, not sure if a certain homeschooler bible study was going to take place or not. Eventually I determined that it was not. Which kinda bummed me out, because I thought I'd stop at the nearby WalMart to pick up a set of cheap sheets for one of the kids (2 kids, 2 beds, 2 sets of flannel, only ONE set of cotton summer sheets) and some cheap towels (darn birth supply list.. TEN towels? Sheesh!). Since they're doing their back-to-college sale, it was a good idea. Even laundry baskets were on sale, and I'm always needing those. :]

But since the bible study wasn't happening out there, I made arrangements with another nearby mom to take our kids to look at some fish (we're easy to entertain around here). I was late, because I couldn't find my wallet ANYWHERE. I knew it was 'safe', because I'd written a check to the midwife on Monday here in my very own living room, and hadn't left since then. We finally found it, and met her and her kids at "the fishies." She has 4 kids; 5 year old twin girls, a 3 year old boy, and a 1 year old. I tossed around the idea of going to the OTHER WalMart anyway, since my errand list for Friday was getting mighty long as it was.

When the other mom offered to come with us, I decided to do it. I mean, I've never been a part to one of those "two crazy moms and alllll their kids taking a field trip to WalMart." I mean really.. I don't know that I've ever been so cliche, so stereotypical. We stopped at her house for a drink of water and to use the potty, and she fed us before we took our family-rigs to that one store.

We browsed around, I got what I needed, plus bananas, and we made it through the checkout lines, all with only several minutes of one of the 'babies' screaming, kids fighting, or begging - or, my favorite part, my older girls climbing on to her cart (you know the ones with the extra-kid seating, making them all long and awkward?) for a ride, so the poor woman held her youngest (who was pinching and pulling hair to her siblings earlier) in one arm, and maneuvered the cart with five - FIVE! - kids holding on or riding here and there. SHE got some looks, lemme tell ya... :)

So we made it through the blistering heat to the vehicles, and parted ways from there... I handed out bananas in the back of the van (*note to self, check for peels*), and carted us all home.

Hubby was let off early today (so they don't have to pay the overtime for his long day yesterday?), and was home when we got back at 3, and was setting to work making a door for the chicken coop. Another door. One that withstands the wind better, we hope. He needed hinges though, and wanted to know where my wallet was.

In the van, of course.

Or not.

In the diaper bag?

No.

Maybe in the laundry basket full of new towels?

Notsomuch.

Uh oh...

This time I wasn't sure it was so safe. I was pretty sure the cart was empty when I abandoned it in the parking lot, but the advertisement was there... what if my wallet was still underneath...?

Uh oh...

WalMart hadn't seen it.

The bank put a hold on my debit card.

American Express did the same.

I wondered about the $200 of grocery money inside, but was thankful that I didn't still have a dozen or more unused and ignored credit cards hanging around in it. I wouldn't have known where to start jogging my memory on those.

So I'm praying I don't have to open a new checking account, since I've used all of 7 checks out of the four boxes that I just ordered last month, and that someone *honest* will find it... soon?

***UPDATE***
Some blessed Bryan grabbed the cart - which was still where I left it, apparently, some 2+ hours later, and found my wallet. He called (I think our phone # is on our checks), and was very kind. He and his family were even going to deliver it to my house, until noticing my address wasn't right in town. I asked him if he'd give it to the WalMart customer service to put in their safe, and he did so.

I looked up the name on my caller ID and found his mailing address, drove to WalMart, retrieved my wallet, bought a Thank You card, stopped at Lowe's for Hubby, went to another grocer hoping for some 'red band' cheap bananas (ended up buying pasteurized milk and honey nut cheerios. I am so naughty, I know), then drove towards home.

And got stopped by a cop, having not slowed enough to go through his town. *gulp* I was glad I had my driver's license with me by this time, and though he said I was 15 over (1 more mile and I'd get a $150 ticket!), he let me go with a verbal warning. I'm so glad. I mean, reaching over to the glove box (for the insurance and such) with this belly, after this day (I didn't tell you about the part where my potty-trainer pooped in my new friend's backyard, and I ended up with it on ME, having to scrub my dress before leaving to WalMart the first time), that was enough punishment, really. I will be much more careful. I will use the brakes, even though it screams "wasting gas!" when I do (I miss the ability of my stick-shift to slow itself via the RPMs). And tomorrow, when I'm home all day buried in laundry, I will at least be glad that I have my wallet, and that I can't be pulled over for speeding.

I should've called this post, "Close Calls."

Granny Trip Details

I don't think I've ever been gone from home and/or Hubby so long, nor missed my bed so badly. :)

The travel was a challenge, for sure.  On the way over, I hit a stretch of curvy, canyon road that was suffering from blowing snow, in a very bad way.  There were periods in which I could not even see the tall orange markers they attach to the roadside reflectors for the snowplows.  It scared me to death.  Like driving in that white realm in The Matrix.  Only there were unseen vehicles before and behind me (mostly 18-wheelers).  *shudder*  Shortly thereafter was the first mountain range to cross, which seemed a breeze after what had already transpired.  All trucks were required to use chains, and that kept the snow (that was not blowing) chewed-up and treadable.  And I could see.  My folks had mercy on me around that time, and set out in our direction in their Audi.  We met before I had to cross the second, larger, mountains, and I gratefully moved myself and 3 carseats into their car and let my mom chauffer us, whilst my dad took charge of Mary Jane (our Camry).  By that point I was aching and tired and drained and completely worn out.  When we flew by an overturned pickup in the dark, I was glad all over again to be a passenger for the last 4 hours (mostly -- when my fingernails weren't being bitten or sunk into the dash).

When I wasn't researching home-care details, or visiting Granny, I was chasing kids, of course.  It is always busy at my folks' home - my stepbrother and his two kids still live there, they run a business from their home and various people who work for the business are always dropping by for this or that, friends stop in, my cousin works in their office some mornings (and socializes there other times), and there is always a table full for dinner (at least, when we're there).  WOW, I miss that... Sometimes.  We cooked for upwards of 12 at times.  I made a great lasagna for my stepbrother's birthday dinner, and after my brother arrived, we got in touch with another cousin (from my real mom's/Gi-gi's side of the family - just happens to live in the same small area - let's call him Cousin E) and enjoyed hanging out with him as well.  Considering the 'general opinion' Gi-gi holds of my dad, I've totally enjoyed seeing this Cousin E meet and get to know my dad these past couple visits.  Certainly without that exposure, he'd have nothing more to go on than Gi-gi's claims (well, and my brother's and my rebuttals).  They get along fantastically, and Cousin E even brought over an arsenal to target-shoot with when my dad talked about shooting his black-powder pistol the next afternoon.  They, and my brother, enjoyed that. :)

The older girls spent one day - last Sunday - sick and in their PJs all day.  Now all of us have a cold, which seems to get worse if we don't sleep well, etc.  It's not terrible, just annoying.

Our trip home was a bit easier...  I broke it into two days, took a different (farther) route, and stayed a night with a dear friend whom I haven't seen in nearly 8 years (at her wedding, where I was 6 months pregnant with Big Sister).  She has a little boy 10 days older than Organique, and she and her husband were fantastic hosts to this travel-weary mama.  They even moved their little guy into their room and let us use their crib!  I really wish we might've stayed longer, but hopefully we can meet up again before another 8 years is up.

We took a 2-hour pit stop at Gi-gi's, ate dinner, bathed the girls and put them in pajamas, and washed a load of laundry.  Gi-gi had thought we were staying overnight, but there was no dissuading me from getting back to my home and hearth once I was so close!  We got in about 9:30 Friday night, and even with the many evidences of a man-alone-at-home-for-2-weeks, home looked pretty good. :)  

From The Rock, Water Flows

Our area is full of secret little attractions that aren't exactly advertised with neon signage. And okay, maybe they wouldn't really be called "attractions" by most. I like them, though.

Occasionally we take the luxury of spending fuel and driving around some of these places.

I had never been to this area before, and drove Hubby crazy having him stop the car every five feet so I could take a picture of some little fancy.

I just loved the stream here, fed from springs.

The sign gave it such a wonderfully vintage feel.

The Intrepid Adventurer

I think so anyway. I'm really not sure what "intrepid" means. But it sounds nifty.

Here she is, in living color:

Who, you say? Who always wears a floppy fisherman's hat, crazy yellow sunglasses, and Reebok's only because she got mad when she found out New Balance was made in China now?

Gigi, of course! Who else?

We camped at her favorite spot. Her parents used to 'vacation' in this area a long time ago. They had relatives that owned a lodge or something, and would sneak away from the kids and farm long enough to recharge in the mountains.

I need a relative with a lodge, lemme tell ya.

In any case, she's still 'got it.' The first night up there was (dis)organized chaos, what with the backpackers sorting their gear, setting up tents and packing away others. The girls and I were blessed to 'borrow' an already-set-up tent (and bed!) from some friends who were only up there for a day. My brother asked, "Where you gonna sleep, Gram?" "Oh, right over there," she replied, gesturing behind her. "I already picked out my spot." He leaned over to see where she meant, as many of us did, but was perplexed to see nothing but the shallow gully behind our campsite.

Oh, indeed. The shallow gully is where she meant.

What do you mean a gully isn't a good place for a tent? Who said anything about a tent? Gigi is quite obviously no typical 81 1/2 year old (as though you hadn't noticed) and she flat refused to take anyone's offered tent, or even to have an unused one set up for her.

And by sundown, she and her sleeping bag and her floppy fisherman's hat were snuggled down in the gully, amidst no few concerned whispers on our part.

"What is she thinking? It gets COLD up here. It'll be in the 30's by morning."

"I know, and what's with the gully? Flash flood, anyone?

"Donna saw wolf scat up the way a couple weeks back. Not that a tent would stop those, but still, should we be setting out a buffet?"

I set my timer for far fewer hours than I would have liked, in order to whip up a hearty breakfast for the supposedly intrepid adventurers. They all slept in tents, though. After stretching my own creaky joints (it was an airbed you know, not my typical memory-foam mattress) and hobbling to upright (the airbed was on the floor. Not an easy dismount) in the still-darkness (4:30 anyone?), I noticed something was still in the gully. Not that I expected it to be anywhere else, but it had been cold (yes, even with my husband to snuggle with and a down comforter... What? Don't look at me that way.), and I was worried. Since I haven't aspired to "intrepid adventurer" status, I asked Hubby if he would go check her. Hold a mirror under her nose. Check for a pulse. Something. He was busy getting dressed and taking care of last-minute pack-adjustments, and took his time. I questioned myself, asking how stupid I must really be. What will we do if she's dead? What will people think of us, letting our old granny freeze to death in the mountains three steps away from us? How long will it take the coroner to get up here? Might we be brought up on charges? I don't want to go to jail! What will happen to my kids? I didn't mean to let her die! Thankfully, before I had the chance to drive off and turn myself in, she was up and around, with fewer creaks and less hobbling than I had done.

She did commandeer an abandoned tent for a night or two while the packers were gone, but made up for it by dragging half-burned firewood to our camp from empty campsites, busting branches off a downed-but-only-half-dry tree and playing the harmonica so my girls could dance on the tabletop of the campsite next to ours. She hauled water and built fires and kept the dishes clean as I cooked. She rocked and sang to Organique, and kept after the horseflies with a fly swatter. She moved the playpen whenever the shade moved, and packed the whole deal, bedding/mattress and all, into my tent at twilight.

And reports that it was among the more enjoyable outings of her life.

LUKE: Mighty Hunter

This is Luke. I've known him a while now, like for about 23 of his 26 years of life, or so. It's possible we've known each other longer, in an ethereal sense, as our parents were friends long before either of them were married or making children (i.e. us). We've walked different paths, but share myriad memories in our childhood. He was my brother's "official" best friend as a kid, and his sister was mine. Anyways, the trail didn't suit him, and he ended up camping with We Who Did Not Hike.


The trail difficulties may or may not have had anything to do with his hobbies:

His hobbies, by the way, are among those paths I didn't take, in case you were wondering. We do, however, share similarly fashionable tan lines.

In honor of our many shared camping memories, I assigned him an important job (Remember the previously mentioned but undisclosed purpose of my steam table pan? Get ready, this is it.): To use his amazing engineering skills to capture one of the little ground squirrel critters that were eating our leftover crumbs around camp. I offered him my multi-purpose steam table pan, and some cord, and he found an appropriate stick.

The first few tries were unsuccessful, but we learned that leftover spaghetti drew them quicker than sugar puff cereal. Eventually we secured one of the critters. I wanted to capture the victorious moment like those big game shots in Cabela's catalogs, but for some reason this just doesn't measure up. I think it was the lighting. Or maybe my lack of a Nikkon D80 DSLR.

It took several attempts to get a shot of the actual live beast (we did catch-and-release. We had plenty of food in camp as it was.); they are very fast! I did find one photo which shows a hint of the critter:

I'm sorry I didn't get a picture of Luke's less-than-manly reaction upon releasing the first captive, who scurried right towards him before disappearing in the bushes. THAT would've been one for Cabela's.

Campin' Baby

I know I'm long overdue for some camping news. With the computer failure and replacement, and my finally getting the camera and computer speaking the same language, I was able to upload-download-offload the pictures to the hard drive. It's been nearly 2 months since I did that! But don't worry: There were (barely) less than 500 pictures to deal with.

I'll try to write the whole story later, though I'm not sure if that's reasonable. I'm starting with a couple darling shots of Organique in the Great Outdoors.



I think she was the only one who got a bath. I did go swimming a time or two though. The tub she's in is fabulous:

It's a stainless half-long, very deep steam table tray from my favorite kitchen store: the local restaurant supply. It carried books to camp, was the mixing bowl for my giant potato salad prior to camping, and served another important purpose (to be disclosed later) during that week.

On another note, she took her first steps today! Three days shy of 11 months.

Good-Bye

That's it; I've had it. I'm leaving you all.

For a little while anyway.

I have had a gun put to my head while someone twisted my arm behind my back and I've agreed to go camping.

I know, I'm out of my mind.

With as many potato bugs and squash bugs as I'm fighting, the last thing I need to do is go cook and clean and mother my children somewhere without a washing machine or bathtub or electricity.

Oh, and did I mention my husband won't be there? At least not for the greater part. He and five others are going backpacking and I'll be awaiting their return (and be sure I have biscuits and gravy waiting, I'm told) with my three young'ns, my half-blind grandmother, and my pregnant sister-in-law. Where's that gun training and conceal & carry permit when I need it??? No, not to fend off the blind or pregnant among us, but to protect them. I'm feeling the burden of this trek already.

I've spent an absolutely unreal amount of money and time and effort to get this off the ground, and I'm sure we'll have fun, but a small part of me wishes I could just stay home and feed squash bugs to the poultry.

You never know, maybe the poultry will survive and the garden pests will die. Probably the other way around, though.

So, I'll be scarce this week. And if I hadn't been menu-planning and shopping and pre-cooking, and sewing and borrowing coolers and registering my green monster, I'd have post-dated a bunch of fun posts for while I"m gone. Heck, I'd have written a bunch of real-time posts these past two weeks!

And when I return, after I've climbed out from beneath a monstrous laundry pile, I'll try to gather my twitching brain cells and put together another worthwhile read (okay, so they're not usually worthwhile. Humor me.).

We're Back!

The girls and I had a good trip. My dad chauferred us home yesterday, and headed back in his own car this morning. When my mom came last week, it took her 11 hours to drive it alone. With the kids it was more like 14 hours, but we stopped a lot to let the kids run around and to nurse/change Baby. Dad is more likely to follow the speed limit, but less inclined to make long stops frequently. He sure got his workout with the girls chasing him at rest areas though!

It was spring-ier there, but wet and soggy.

Here, still no spring.

They expect a temperature of 70 this weekend. *guffaws*

Today I awoke to snow and a COLD house.

I'm thinking I inadvertently stayed 8 months instead of five days, and am in the midst of December now. It's not very Christmas-ey though, which is what makes December's snow so cozy.

Survived..

It has been a poor week for posting, hasn't it? I apologize. Maybe I will do better next week. Thursday was our bi-monthly Errand Day, the Big 'Un, that is. Hubby had forgotten to grab his check Wednesday evening, so we started our day heading to the town where he works, about 30 minutes away. That takes a while, because our his dog only sits and stays on the porch for a short time. She then proceeds to chase the car down the driveway, which is followed by my backing up the driveway, followed by my placing her on the porch with commands to sit! stay! Wash, rinse, repeat until you give up and don't care if the dog follows you to the road and gets mashed. She won't be spayed until next Wednesday, at which point I'll have the $70 to regret. I finally drove to Hubby's work, where my eldest daughters informed me that they "could not find" their shoes before we left. That's right. They climbed into the car without their shoes in 25 degree weather. For our big errand day. To give me a chance to learn patience and grace, I suppose. Nice of them. I found a pair of shoes for Little Monkey in the trunk, so she wore those, but Big Sister was without footwear for the duration. Once in Town (another 20 minutes another direction), I discovered that Hubby had borrowed my American Express/warehouse membership card. Which makes the shopping and errands much more complicated. I would survive, though. I would.

Apparently last Thursday my nice Camry was invisible. We didn't get into any accidents, but had several close calls with drivers slowly turning out right in front of me, or turning where they weren't supposed to and blocking my access in the midst of heavy traffic. Is it the holidays? Do all the idiot less-skilled drivers hit the streets in December? I'm sorry to report that I temporarily lost my salvation when an old man mosied his car to keep me from the lane to get me to the gas station that we were in dire need of. U-turns in busy traffic? Guess so! I did repent, though. Eventually we found a parking space at the Members-Only-Warehouse. After getting a temporary "pass" from the membership desk, we began our shopping. Big Sister ran ahead to a stuffed-animal bin where an employee spotted her stockings and informed her, "Little girl, you cannot be in here without shoes! You must put your shoes back on." I approached from behind and asked, "Do you sell shoes in her size?" She looked at me like I was real Mother-of-the-Year material for dragging my kindergartener about in below-freezing weather. Which I already knew, of course. "Well, then, you'll just have to stay in the cart" she told her. "It's against OSHA rules to be in here without shoes." The woman and I both glanced into said cart, which was already full to the brim with Little Monkey (who, shoes or not, cannot be 'on the loose' in the store), and the baby carrier. I had barely begun the 'shopping.' I had Big Sister stand on the lower bar and hold on while I made our way through the bustling holiday shoppers to a quiet corner where we could rearrange the seating. The corner did not remain quiet, however, when I tried putting Baby in my nice new Ergo Carrier (thankfully I'd brought it into the store!). Trying to get Howling Baby situated while her sisters ate their food-samples - one in the cart and the other carefully avoiding the floor by sitting on pallets of dog food - was a challenge for my already-frustrated self. Big Sister managed to get herself seated next to Little Monkey in the cart (this one had no child-seat in it), and I was faced with the daunting task of getting the infant carrier to the rack below the cart. With Darling Baby crying at the top of her lungs. Still. I'm not used to the Ergo enough to be comfortable leaning over and using two hands to accomplish a task, and kicking the carrier wasn't going to situate it carefully among the potatoes. Why, oh why does my girls' only stay-at-home-grandma live hours away? Because I left home and married and settled hours away, that's why. Note to self: Consider that in next life. God sent a Ministering Angel, also known as Another Employee to assist me in my High Calling of situating the baby carrier carefully among the potatoes.

We did make it home, without wrecking the car or getting arrested by OSHA. I even unloaded the perishables from the trunk, and was a pleasant wife when Hubby returned home from work. Progress is being made here. Real progress.

And, my second-babiest toe on my right foot was in excruciating pain the whole time too. We survived. Maybe even conquered. Next time: Be more than conquerors!

Camping...

This past weekend we were persuaded to go camping with Hubby's family.

Excuse me, I mistyped. Hubby was persuaded. I was ...drug? dragged? drugged? It might've been better if I was drugged.

My brother-in-law excitedly told us about a camping trip he wanted The Family to go on, in honor of his wife's birthday. We had a barbecue on her birthday, but they're very short-lived, and you can eat a lot more in a weekend camping trip, I guess.

I'm not sure how a whole host of people can be convinced that it is a good idea to take a 33 week-pregnant lady camping, but perhaps it was alien mind-control, or mass-hysteria, like liberalism.

Anyways. I went camping. Actually, the drama started well before I went camping. My mom and her sister visited for a couple days before leaving early Friday morning. That same earliness, I set to work with my pre-camp duties, like making sure both of my maternity outfits were clean, and planning a semi-parallel menu to the Main Campers', that would fit my dietary needs and Hubby's different ones. Well, I had planned the menu earlier, but it was time to institute it. I did laundry, made mayonnaise (turned out quite well, I might add, using sunflower oil and less dijon mustard than the recipe called for), made potato salad and macaroni salad, packed coolers and crates with "our" bread, "our" sour cream, "our" graham crackers, "our" salt, "our" water, and various other things. Hubby was off at 2 so we could get going and be there early. Hmm... We pulled out of the driveway about 7. We got to the campsite at 10, with a very sore, very tired, very wrung-out pregnant lady in tow. I can be so stoic, sometimes, but I was in tears and just wanted to find a place to lay myself down by the time we pulled in. Actually, I truly wanted to be home and in bed about 10 hours previous, but that wouldn't have been reasonable.

The main attributes of "camp" went pretty well, actually. The river had changed it's path, and though it had wiped out our previously favored campsite, it had replaced it with a great log and swimming hole. The water was absurdly warm, which we blame on the early snow-melt. Jumping and diving from the log and ledges were favorite camp pasttimes, though I'm sorry to say I don't do much jumping or diving these days. I did wade in slowly one day and dog-paddle around a bit. It's nice to get The Belly into the relative weightlessness of water. The guys each brought like five motorcycles I think. Well, they made the noise of 5 each, but maybe they had fewer. The only things about the trip that I wish could've been better would be the rest/sleep thing, and the Evil Bloodsucking Mosquito thing. Don't get me wrong; I was afforded the second-best in camper accomodations, evicting, by my condition, the family of in-laws who usually enjoys those arrangements. My lack of comfort was by no means due to any slight. It was due, entirely, to my oddly-arranged body and Evil Bloodsucking Mosquitos buzzing in my ears. Oh, and the morning before we returned I burned 3 attractive blisters into my face and neck with hot grease and pancake batter, a routine I hope never ever to repeat. My new neighbor came to the door today and I'm pretty sure she thinks I'm a leper. She probably thinks we're a family of lepers, due to Little Monkey's twenty-four mosquito bites, just on her face (I haven't tried counting the ones on her arms, hands, or legs). Let's hope she's had and is immune to West Nile, shall we? {decent mother disclaimer: Yes, I did slather her repeatedly with deet-free mosquito repellant day and night, and even while she slept. For some reason she's tasty enough to warrant braving the repellant and eating her up anyway.}

Hubby was unusually tolerant and exceedingly helpful while we were there. He might've been afraid of precipitating another emotional breakdown, but either way he was more than happy to fetch and carry all my strange food from the coolers and my slippers from the car, or set up my nice reclining camp-chair* in the shade. I thanked him, but I'm not sure he knows how really grateful I am, not only for his service, but the wonderful attitude he displayed. I don't believe he did anything with a sigh or complaint, and that means more to me than completing those tasks, even.

Overall, I'm glad I went, if only to bless Hubby and The Family with my gracious, er, unstable? presence. Next time, I hope the river keeps it's new course, and I am more fit to join in the jumping.

That is one of my sisters-in-law, and my mother-in-law...

Wow, I hope I can do that when I'm 50+!!

*wow, I did NOT pay that price for mine. But it is a great chair.