A good weekend, indeed. Marie took six of the seven way up north to "Bird Camp," a weekend of bird watching and enjoying the great outdoors. It's one of her family's three summer traditions. It's equally part of the tradition that I avoid it.
It's a colossal waste of time. At least for me. I won't judge how another person spends his time and I appreciate the value of spending time with ones family, but for me, walking--actually, "strolling at a pace that assures virtually no exercise"--for hours and hours, then going back to the cabin where 25 people are all in one common room, then eating in a mess hall, then strolling for more hours, and doing this for three straight days and nights, is a frustrating waste of time.
When I climbed in the van to come home the last time I went (about seven years ago), I felt ready to be the subject of a TV talk show: jangled nerves, demoralized, wiped out but facing Tuesday at the office, five-hour holiday-weekend road jam drive ahead of me, not talking to my wife but congratulating myself for not beating her like a rabid dog (I may have called her a rabid dog, but I didn't beat her), honestly concerned that I was losing my mind. It was brutal.
Thing is, my wife doesn't like it either, and she hadn't gone in five years. She went this year for a variety of reasons, including nostalgia. She called me on her cellphone last night and jokingly cursed me for sitting in our comfortable home. She said it was freezing up there but she was getting eaten alive by mosquitoes. I didn't even know those two things--near frost and mosquitoes--could exist together, but apparently they can. I told her that it was a beautiful evening--mid-50s and very few bugs--down here. She made an inappropriate comment that referenced my posterior.
My oldest daughter, Abbie (13), stayed with me because she has a class trip starting Monday morning that she would've missed. We're enjoying the weekend by (i) going out to eat a handful of times, (ii) watching movies, and (iii) cleaning all the carpets in the house. Odd combination that, but it's impossible to clean carpets with seven kids in the house. This is the first real chance I've had to do it in about fifteen months. Given the amount of food and dirt that gets tracked in, the carpets were getting pretty gross. Old Abs was shocked that the water turned nearly black after cleaning just one-third of the basement.
Anyway, it's been a terrible May, so this is a nice way to wind it down. Abbie is a low-maintenance kid and she knows I like my quiet time. The noise and chaos will return Monday afternoon, but until then, thank you for the peace.
