Tuesday, August 30, 2005
There are no words
. . . to express the sadness I feel each and every time I watch the news. I cannot fathom the horrors being endured by people in Louisianna and Mississippi. I cannot allow myself to think how I would feel if I was separated from Frank, Beck and Doug. I cannot allow myself to think how I would feel if I could not give my children water to drink. My heart breaks for every single parent and child I see.
Marc Broussard
Broken ribs and all, we saw Marc Broussard last night. Brandi Carlile opened for him. Fantastic, both of them. We sat in the VIP section and I stayed in the wheelchair (less chance of someone bumping into me). Marc Broussard is unbelievably good. Ironic that all of them are from New Orleans. I don't think I would have had the fortitude to be able to perform last night, not having any idea what was happening to their homes and families.
Thursday, August 25, 2005
A Little Accident
I had a little accident last week. A fall actually. I decided it was time to put all of the camping gear away, most of it was already, but there were a few things left to go in the loft in the garage. CJ was helping me, Frank was playing in the garage. I climbed up the ladder and CJ was handing things to me to put away. We were close to finished when suddenly the ladder seemed to shift, and I fell to the floor of the garage.
It is painful to write about, but I'm hoping that by writing about it, it will start to become a more distant memory rather than one I relive hourly.
The fall itself seemed to go in slow motion for me, the way those things seem to. As I was falling all I could think was that I was falling too far to live through it. Then when my body hit, I was certain my back or neck would be broken. Then my head hit the floor. Amazingly, I didn't lose consciousness. I could move my legs and arms, but I couldn't breath and the pain in my back, behind my lungs was excrutiating. CJ called 911 and I could hear the sirens it seemed only a minute later. I think CJ was trying to calm Frank, although I don't remember much from this time, only the pain and that I couldn't catch my breath.
The paramedics put me on a backboard and put a neck brace on, then took me to Hoag Hospital. The ride was again excrutiating, the pain almost unbearable. They tried to start an IV, but I don't have and never had any decent veins. I did appreciate their effort to give me some pain medication.
Minutes later I was at Hoag and the doctor was checking me over. All the signs were positive, legs and arms still moved and had feeling, I knew where I was, etc. They again tried to start an IV, and failing to do so gave me morphine via a shot in the arm. Doug arrived then, which is when I fell apart. Now that my rock was with me, I could admit how frightened I was, no more need to be strong, I could let my guard down and depend on him to help me through it.
They took me to x-ray and somehow were able to take some. They moved me minimally, which I appreciated greatly. Back to the ER to wait for the results.
The doctor came and told me that I had broken some ribs, but everything else seemed okay. He warned me that broken ribs were very painful, and there wasn't much to do other than rest and let them heal. Evidently it isn't good for the lungs to tape the ribs, so basically they just heal on their own, in four to six weeks.
I think they gave me another shot for the pain, and told me I could go home. Again, I don't remember much. It seemed like when we pulled in the yard, CJ had mowed the lawn. I think he had to do something physical in order to burn off some of the stress of what had happened. Janel was there, she had left work to come down and help the minute CJ called her to tell her what happened. She stayed to help me get settled and then went back to work.
I remember getting settled on the couch, I don't remember much else other than sleeping on and off.
I know they kept Beckett away from me. He is used to climbing all over me, which wouldn't have been a good thing. Frank came and told me how scared he had been. He saw me fall. It must've been awful for him. He told me he had to run into the house, and he told me he had cried. I told him both of those things were the right things to do and that he was very brave.
It's been a few days since it happened. Each day I feel better than the day before. Each day I try to do more and more on my own. Doug, CJ and Janel have all been wonderful. Friends have come by to bring dinners (and cookies, lots and lots of cookies), and have sent flowers and called and emailed.
I tell everyone who calls the same thing: I have no complaints. I am thankful to be alive, and I am thankful that in a couple of weeks, I will heal and I will feel better and most importantly I will be able to walk and play with my kids, and see their beautiful smiles every day. At that's all that really matters. I'm still here. I thank God for that.
I doubt very much that I'll ever get on a ladder again in my lifetime, and I probably won't be very comfortable when anyone else is on one.
Doug told me a couple of days ago, when we were alone, that on that particular morning, he put on his wedding ring at the last minute before he went to work. He rarely wears his wedding ring, and not usually ever to work. I don't recall a time he ever has worn it to work actually. His voice was quiet when he told me. Doug isn't one to be superstitious, or give much to coicidence, but this fact seemed to shake him. The only thing he said after that was that he'd never do it again.
It is painful to write about, but I'm hoping that by writing about it, it will start to become a more distant memory rather than one I relive hourly.
The fall itself seemed to go in slow motion for me, the way those things seem to. As I was falling all I could think was that I was falling too far to live through it. Then when my body hit, I was certain my back or neck would be broken. Then my head hit the floor. Amazingly, I didn't lose consciousness. I could move my legs and arms, but I couldn't breath and the pain in my back, behind my lungs was excrutiating. CJ called 911 and I could hear the sirens it seemed only a minute later. I think CJ was trying to calm Frank, although I don't remember much from this time, only the pain and that I couldn't catch my breath.
The paramedics put me on a backboard and put a neck brace on, then took me to Hoag Hospital. The ride was again excrutiating, the pain almost unbearable. They tried to start an IV, but I don't have and never had any decent veins. I did appreciate their effort to give me some pain medication.
Minutes later I was at Hoag and the doctor was checking me over. All the signs were positive, legs and arms still moved and had feeling, I knew where I was, etc. They again tried to start an IV, and failing to do so gave me morphine via a shot in the arm. Doug arrived then, which is when I fell apart. Now that my rock was with me, I could admit how frightened I was, no more need to be strong, I could let my guard down and depend on him to help me through it.
They took me to x-ray and somehow were able to take some. They moved me minimally, which I appreciated greatly. Back to the ER to wait for the results.
The doctor came and told me that I had broken some ribs, but everything else seemed okay. He warned me that broken ribs were very painful, and there wasn't much to do other than rest and let them heal. Evidently it isn't good for the lungs to tape the ribs, so basically they just heal on their own, in four to six weeks.
I think they gave me another shot for the pain, and told me I could go home. Again, I don't remember much. It seemed like when we pulled in the yard, CJ had mowed the lawn. I think he had to do something physical in order to burn off some of the stress of what had happened. Janel was there, she had left work to come down and help the minute CJ called her to tell her what happened. She stayed to help me get settled and then went back to work.
I remember getting settled on the couch, I don't remember much else other than sleeping on and off.
I know they kept Beckett away from me. He is used to climbing all over me, which wouldn't have been a good thing. Frank came and told me how scared he had been. He saw me fall. It must've been awful for him. He told me he had to run into the house, and he told me he had cried. I told him both of those things were the right things to do and that he was very brave.
It's been a few days since it happened. Each day I feel better than the day before. Each day I try to do more and more on my own. Doug, CJ and Janel have all been wonderful. Friends have come by to bring dinners (and cookies, lots and lots of cookies), and have sent flowers and called and emailed.
I tell everyone who calls the same thing: I have no complaints. I am thankful to be alive, and I am thankful that in a couple of weeks, I will heal and I will feel better and most importantly I will be able to walk and play with my kids, and see their beautiful smiles every day. At that's all that really matters. I'm still here. I thank God for that.
I doubt very much that I'll ever get on a ladder again in my lifetime, and I probably won't be very comfortable when anyone else is on one.
Doug told me a couple of days ago, when we were alone, that on that particular morning, he put on his wedding ring at the last minute before he went to work. He rarely wears his wedding ring, and not usually ever to work. I don't recall a time he ever has worn it to work actually. His voice was quiet when he told me. Doug isn't one to be superstitious, or give much to coicidence, but this fact seemed to shake him. The only thing he said after that was that he'd never do it again.
Saturday, August 13, 2005
Gavin DeGraw
Had a great time last night with Elaine, Janel and CJ when we went to see Gavin DeGraw. We started with dinner at Vida, which although not as trendy as it used to seem, was fantastic as far as the food, drink and service.
Quick drive from there to the Greek, saw Gavin open for Avril Lavigne, made CJ ask some guy where he worked because I swore I knew him. Ended up having a conversation with him, both looked familiar to each other, but couldn't place where from. Oh, Gavin DeGraw's performance was as outstanding as always. Sat through the first then minutes of Avril Lavigne, which was as much as I could stand. All of us were in agreement that we had no interest in staying, so we left.
Too early to go home, so we went to the Dresden to see Marty and Elayne. Throwback to old times for Elaine and I. In fact, Elaine and I spent much of the evening reminiscing about our single days. It was fun to relive, didn't stay long, but it was a nice way to end the evening.
Quick drive from there to the Greek, saw Gavin open for Avril Lavigne, made CJ ask some guy where he worked because I swore I knew him. Ended up having a conversation with him, both looked familiar to each other, but couldn't place where from. Oh, Gavin DeGraw's performance was as outstanding as always. Sat through the first then minutes of Avril Lavigne, which was as much as I could stand. All of us were in agreement that we had no interest in staying, so we left.
Too early to go home, so we went to the Dresden to see Marty and Elayne. Throwback to old times for Elaine and I. In fact, Elaine and I spent much of the evening reminiscing about our single days. It was fun to relive, didn't stay long, but it was a nice way to end the evening.
Thursday, August 11, 2005
Mammoth Updates and Photos
Each of the Mammoth posts have been updated with photos. Please see below, and take another look if you've already read them.
Mammoth 2005 (Continued)
Monday afternoon to Tuesday afternoon
Doug, CJ and Frank come back to the cabin and report that all three caught a fish, but all three were too small to keep. This is documented by photos with the digital camera this time.
We have lunch and evidently Doug and CJ have an attack of guilty consciences. Now that they’ve REALLY caught a fish, they can confess that yesterday, when they SAID they each caught a fish, it was really a DEAD fish that they took out of the water, put on a hook and then took turns taking a photos. Wow. That was some overwhelming desire to prove they could really catch fish. Didn’t want to look bad for Frank. Didn’t want Frank to think they couldn’t catch a fish. How funny. (What's funnier are the photos. We got the disposable camera developed after we got home. These are the photos of them catching the dead fish. No these don't look staged at all. I think I would've known even if they hadn't told me.)
After the lunchtime confession, we decide to go over to Rock Creek and explore and fish. It’s such a beautiful place. We enjoy the afternoon very much. I don’t think anyone caught anymore fish, but it didn’t really matter. Rain, thunder and lightening come and we go back to the cabin.
After dinner of hot dogs (and onions for CJ and Doug), we pack everything up so Tuesday morning’s departure is quick and easy. Later, after Frank and Beck are asleep, Doug and CJ break into the tequila (we wouldn’t have wanted to bring it all that way and not drink any of it). We talk about how great the trip has been, and how none of us are ready to go home. If Doug didn’t have a regular job, where he has to report to someone, we might’ve extended our stay. We talk about more camping trips, and other stuff we can all do together once CJ and Janel’s baby is born. They will join the ranks of people with kids as opposed to kids themselves, their social lives will change greatly. Mainly because they will want it to. There are plenty of parents whose social life doesn’t change at all, but I think CJ and Janel will make the needs of their baby a priority and live a reasonably traditional family lifestyle. By the amount of time they spend with us, it seems as though that is what they crave anyway.
Beck is up at 5:00am and so am I. We get the last minute stuff ready to go, wake Frank, Doug and CJ, and we all pile in the Suburban for the ride home. We drop the keys off at the store and get on the road. We stop at Tom’s Place for coffee and agree to have breakfast in Lone Pine. Doug starts making jokes that I have some cowboy connections in Lone Pine and that’s why I want to eat there. Hmmm, I think CJ may be in trouble.
I drive as far as the Mt. Whitney Fish Hatchery, where we stop to let Beck have some fun. He does. It’s a beautiful hatchery, built in 1916, and very kid-friendly.
Doug drives us into Lone Pine, we have breakfast and the continue on with our cranky drive home. Everyone is cranky; tired, hot, don’t want to be going home, don’t want to sit in the car for six hours, etc.
We make it home by 1:30. Doug and CJ unload the truck and I start the process of unpacking and doing laundry. I give CJ Wednesday off. He was getting impatient with the boys on the ride home so I figure he needs a break from them for at least twenty-four hours. I also think CJ and I could use a twenty-four hour break ourselves. It’s good to sleep in my own bed. It’s better to have Beck asleep in his own. I finally get a good night’s sleep, the first in seven days.
Doug, CJ and Frank come back to the cabin and report that all three caught a fish, but all three were too small to keep. This is documented by photos with the digital camera this time.
We have lunch and evidently Doug and CJ have an attack of guilty consciences. Now that they’ve REALLY caught a fish, they can confess that yesterday, when they SAID they each caught a fish, it was really a DEAD fish that they took out of the water, put on a hook and then took turns taking a photos. Wow. That was some overwhelming desire to prove they could really catch fish. Didn’t want to look bad for Frank. Didn’t want Frank to think they couldn’t catch a fish. How funny. (What's funnier are the photos. We got the disposable camera developed after we got home. These are the photos of them catching the dead fish. No these don't look staged at all. I think I would've known even if they hadn't told me.)
After the lunchtime confession, we decide to go over to Rock Creek and explore and fish. It’s such a beautiful place. We enjoy the afternoon very much. I don’t think anyone caught anymore fish, but it didn’t really matter. Rain, thunder and lightening come and we go back to the cabin.After dinner of hot dogs (and onions for CJ and Doug), we pack everything up so Tuesday morning’s departure is quick and easy. Later, after Frank and Beck are asleep, Doug and CJ break into the tequila (we wouldn’t have wanted to bring it all that way and not drink any of it). We talk about how great the trip has been, and how none of us are ready to go home. If Doug didn’t have a regular job, where he has to report to someone, we might’ve extended our stay. We talk about more camping trips, and other stuff we can all do together once CJ and Janel’s baby is born. They will join the ranks of people with kids as opposed to kids themselves, their social lives will change greatly. Mainly because they will want it to. There are plenty of parents whose social life doesn’t change at all, but I think CJ and Janel will make the needs of their baby a priority and live a reasonably traditional family lifestyle. By the amount of time they spend with us, it seems as though that is what they crave anyway.
Beck is up at 5:00am and so am I. We get the last minute stuff ready to go, wake Frank, Doug and CJ, and we all pile in the Suburban for the ride home. We drop the keys off at the store and get on the road. We stop at Tom’s Place for coffee and agree to have breakfast in Lone Pine. Doug starts making jokes that I have some cowboy connections in Lone Pine and that’s why I want to eat there. Hmmm, I think CJ may be in trouble.
I drive as far as the Mt. Whitney Fish Hatchery, where we stop to let Beck have some fun. He does. It’s a beautiful hatchery, built in 1916, and very kid-friendly.
Doug drives us into Lone Pine, we have breakfast and the continue on with our cranky drive home. Everyone is cranky; tired, hot, don’t want to be going home, don’t want to sit in the car for six hours, etc.
We make it home by 1:30. Doug and CJ unload the truck and I start the process of unpacking and doing laundry. I give CJ Wednesday off. He was getting impatient with the boys on the ride home so I figure he needs a break from them for at least twenty-four hours. I also think CJ and I could use a twenty-four hour break ourselves. It’s good to sleep in my own bed. It’s better to have Beck asleep in his own. I finally get a good night’s sleep, the first in seven days.
Mammoth 2005 (Continued)
Thursday afernoon to Monday morning.
The tent erect, finally—and the campsite officially set up, we venture out in search of fish. We walk through the campsite, past the second lake through the woods, over near a stream, and the boys fish. They don’t catch anything, but get very wet.
Our first night we decide to grill steak, but the steak is still frozen and we have chili instead. Doug cooks the chili, which burns to the bottom of one of three of our pots. We consider throwing the pot away, but let it soak on the table overnight. After chili we have s’mores. Frank goes to bed, still not feeling himself. And then I go into the tent with Beckett to try to get him to sleep.
He is adorable. Babbling. Smiling. Giving me lots of kisses. He turns over, his back to me and projectile vomits all over the sheet, the sleeping bag, the air mattress, his monkey, the tent—everywhere and everything. It’s mainly milk. I cry for help and CJ and Doug come running to get it all out of the tent as I hold Beckett who is crying and shaking.
We get cleaned up, and I get Beck calmed down and finally both of us go to sleep. The air mattress isn’t holding air and I’m forever rolling downhill trying to keep him from falling off into the crevice between mattress and tent. Not much sleep.
Suddenly I hear a very loud banging. And then an airhorn, and lights flashing. I wake Doug. “What is that?” “What?” he says. More banging. “That.” And then a car alarm, it sounds like ours. He gets up and looks out. “What is it?” I ask. “Is it a bear?” Yes, it’s a bear, in the campsite right next to ours, trying to get into storage boxes they’ve left on the picnic table. There are several children at that campsite and the parents are trying to get them to calm down and stop blowing the airhorn. The spotlights scare the bear away, but not before I get a good look at it.
Later it happens again. This time Doug goes out to get a better look. I think maybe he’s taking photos. The spotlights again scare it away. I hear the next day that there were two bears that time.
Now I’m sick. Same stomach flu as Frank and Beck. Doug goes outside with me because I’m frightened from the bear.
The next morning I get up with the sun and find the bear had been through our campsite as well. Our small, red, soft-sided cooler which had only had bottles of beer in it, had inadvertently been left outside and the bottom is ripped out of it. The chili pan which had been soaking is upside down on ground, and the table is a muddy mess. I clean up, light the stove, make some coffee. Doug and CJ are soon gone at the dock to find fish.
I have an hour alone to start making breakfast. We have potatoes, bacon and eggs, and coffee. Beck and Frank are up. Beck seems to be feeling fine. Frank is still under the weather.
We go to town for more firewood, water and beer. And to find a laundry. I find a brochure for a spa and decide to have a massage. Doug goes to get tickets for the Brewfest and finds it is really on Saturday, not Friday as he thought. I schedule the massage for late in the day and we go exploring while someone does our laundry for us.
We go back to the campsite and I take a nap. The boys go fishing and come back in time to wake me up to go have my massage. They’ve decided to go back to town with me and drop me off at the athletic club—they’re bored.
I go in and have a wonderful shower and steam, followed by a great massage, and then another shower and steam. If you’re in Mammoth, I encourage you to visit the Snowcreek Athletic Club and get a massage from Jacqueline. She’s really good and I don’t give that kind of praise easily—I’ve had a lot of massages, and for them to be really good, they have to be really good.The boys pick me up and we pick up the laundry. We head back to camp for steaks and potato salad. It’s late and the boys and I go to bed. The campsite is more secure tonight, everything is put away. CJ and Doug make a plan to communicate via the walkie-talkies if either hear a bear, and also have some sort of weapon posted at the entrance to each tent. They’ve got a plan to protect the kids, and me too I guess.
The sun rises again. No bears last night. I think all the boys were disappointed. I wasn’t.
Breakfast today is cereal because we are in a hurry to go and fish before the Brewfest. We head to Convict Lake and fish off the shore for a few hours. I learn to cast, thanks to the patient and kind couple on the shore next to us. Doug is a great teacher, only not with is his wife. He is impatient when I can’t do it right away, and I think embarrassed. He is critical of me and a perfectionist. I don’t give up and finally get it. I don’t get any fish, but neither does anyone else.
We head back to Mammoth and to the Bluesapooloza. We are lucky to find a spot to sit. We sample lots of beer and lots of food, and all enjoy our afternoon immensely.
Afterward none of us are in the mood to cook and we head to Roberto’s for margaritas and Mexican food. The wait is long and we are all very tired after dinner.
We get back to camp and it has rained. And Beck throws up again. The tent is like a sauna and I’ve got to clean up from the rain, clean up from Beck. Finally Beck and I go to sleep. Doug wakes me when he comes in. He tells me that rather than camping tomorrow at Rock Creek, he thinks we should get a cabin. I agree and am overjoyed.
We have pancakes and sausage for breakfast the next morning. Beck sleeps late, but just as we’re about to eat, Frank wakes him and then Beck gets sick again. Later he seems to feel okay as we pack up to head out.
We drive to Rock Creek and stop at the lodge. They don’t have any cabins, but the place down the road has one left. It’s beautiful and perfect. It has a bathroom with a shower. And beds.
I move us in while Doug and CJ go in search of fish. It is the fourth day of our camping trip and still no fish, not even a nibble. They are very happy that I’ve agreed to watch the boys so they can get serious about catching dinner. The boys and I have fun and play in the cabin. Beck takes a nap and Frank and I play cards. He makes up games I don’t understand, and he wins.
Doug and CJ come back saying they each caught one fish, but both were too small to keep. They say they took photos with the disposable camera. Beckett wakes up and is very hot. Too hot. I’m worried. I realize the hospital in Mammoth is forty minutes away, but I’m taking him there. Doug drives, we get to the ER and Beck’s fever is 103, worse his heart rate is 197. They give him a tylenol suppository and then an IV. A few hours and many tears later, his fever his down and so is his heart rate. The staff at the Mammoth ER is bored in the summer. No broken legs or arms or other skiing accidents. We are the only ones there. We make lots of friends. They love our boys’ names. We overhear lots of conversations about it. They get us dinner, and then coffee. At midnight we are happy to be able to leave. I think the nurses are sad to see us go, but happy, of course, that Beck is better.
Monday morning we have bacon and eggs and toast (the cabin has a toaster!) I go down to the store to exchange towels and get pie. Pie in the sky. It isn’t overrated, it is fantastic.
Doug, CJ and Frank go for a hike, while I keep watch over Beck and give him lots of clear fluids.
Tuesday, August 09, 2005
Mammoth Lakes 2005
Wednesday night to Thursday morning.
Doug got home from work a little late, but we were in the driveway ready to go. He had warned me he might be tired and would want me to drive maybe as far as Barstow. (Um, I suppose it would be bad form for me to go into the number of hours I had to work and the sleep I didn’t get in order to be able to go on this trip, and that while I wasn’t sleeping, some other adult in this house was sleeping? Yes, that would be bad form.) So although tired, I drove as far as Barstow. But first, we ate fast food. Yes, we ate fast food. In the car. While driving. Frank was in heaven.
The traffic wasn’t bad and we got to Highway 15 pretty quickly it seemed. Then, although there wasn’t any traffic, the drive got really, really long. Anyone reading this who has driven 395 to Bishop knows exactly what I’m talking about. I drove until the turnoff for Barstow, and then Doug took over. Fortunately CJ stayed awake (although in the back seat), because I fell asleep. I could hear them talking and think every so often I added something incoherent to the conversation, and then Doug woke me up when we got to Bishop. He got two rooms at the Outdoorsman Motor Lodge, and Frank stayed with CJ. Beckett slept with me, of course, in one of the two queen beds in our room. I should say Beckett eventually slept with me. First he tossed, and turned, and then tossed and turned some more, and tried for at least a couple of hours to find a position he was comfortable in. Just when we both drifted off (it seemed like only seconds later), Beck fell out of bed. Bad mom, fell asleep, Beck not secured. This drifting in and out, readjusting Beck away from the edge of the bed, turning him around so his head rather than feet were on the pillow, or on my shoulder, went on all the short night long.
Finally day dawned and I could put an end to the maddening quest for real sleep, and just get up. Doug went to wake CJ and Frank. He came back a few minutes later to report that Frank had the stomach flu, had been vomiting all night, and was resting in the bath trying to feel better. Oh great, the stomach flu. We’re on our way to a campground. To camp in tents. Starting off superbly.
We rally and decide to walk a couple of doors down to Schat’s (bakery), for some breakfast. They don’t have breakfast, they just have baked goods. And orange juice. We choose some items from the bakery, and some orange juice and a couple of coffees. $25.98. Yep, that’s right, three items from the bakery, three plastic containers of orange juice (the single serving kind), and two cups of coffee. Small cups. $25.98. Turns out the orange juice is spun from gold or something. $4.50 each. Each. Oh. Doug pays, we leave and the million dollar OJ becomes one of the jokes for the week.
All the boys play in the park while I check out, of the motel. We pile in the car to head to Twin Lakes. Frank throws up on the way. First two changes of clothing now covered in million dollar orange juice, in trash bags, to be washed in SIX DAYS when we get home. Yippee!
We take the turnoff to Mammoth Lakes and then a few miles later, the turnoff to Twin Lakes.
We drive around the campground and find a site we like and it just so happens the people inhabiting it are packing up and heading home. We fill out our little white slip, put it on top of their orange slip, pay the campground host, and then wait as the previous tenants vacate.
The spot is perfect. We have a beautiful view of the lake, but it isn’t close enough that we have to be concerned about Beckett running and jumping in; the bathrooms are close, but not too close, and neither are the neighbors. We unpack and start setting up. Doug and I eventually realize that CJ is having trouble getting his tent up. So we join him, in having trouble getting his tent up. I would be willing to bet good money that all around that campground people were having a whole lot of fun watching the three of us trying to figure out how to get this tent up. There may even have been wagers as to how long it would take us. One woman did walk by and offer a couple of suggestions. I listened, but didn’t really care for the shit-eating grin she had on her face (really I think she was trying really, really hard not to burst out laughing). Bitch.
So we stop and call CJ’s dad. The cell phone coverage is spotty. It takes three or four phone calls to get a hint as to how to set this tent up. Three hours later (or so it seemed), we had an erect tent.
To be continued . . .
Doug got home from work a little late, but we were in the driveway ready to go. He had warned me he might be tired and would want me to drive maybe as far as Barstow. (Um, I suppose it would be bad form for me to go into the number of hours I had to work and the sleep I didn’t get in order to be able to go on this trip, and that while I wasn’t sleeping, some other adult in this house was sleeping? Yes, that would be bad form.) So although tired, I drove as far as Barstow. But first, we ate fast food. Yes, we ate fast food. In the car. While driving. Frank was in heaven.
The traffic wasn’t bad and we got to Highway 15 pretty quickly it seemed. Then, although there wasn’t any traffic, the drive got really, really long. Anyone reading this who has driven 395 to Bishop knows exactly what I’m talking about. I drove until the turnoff for Barstow, and then Doug took over. Fortunately CJ stayed awake (although in the back seat), because I fell asleep. I could hear them talking and think every so often I added something incoherent to the conversation, and then Doug woke me up when we got to Bishop. He got two rooms at the Outdoorsman Motor Lodge, and Frank stayed with CJ. Beckett slept with me, of course, in one of the two queen beds in our room. I should say Beckett eventually slept with me. First he tossed, and turned, and then tossed and turned some more, and tried for at least a couple of hours to find a position he was comfortable in. Just when we both drifted off (it seemed like only seconds later), Beck fell out of bed. Bad mom, fell asleep, Beck not secured. This drifting in and out, readjusting Beck away from the edge of the bed, turning him around so his head rather than feet were on the pillow, or on my shoulder, went on all the short night long.
Finally day dawned and I could put an end to the maddening quest for real sleep, and just get up. Doug went to wake CJ and Frank. He came back a few minutes later to report that Frank had the stomach flu, had been vomiting all night, and was resting in the bath trying to feel better. Oh great, the stomach flu. We’re on our way to a campground. To camp in tents. Starting off superbly.
We rally and decide to walk a couple of doors down to Schat’s (bakery), for some breakfast. They don’t have breakfast, they just have baked goods. And orange juice. We choose some items from the bakery, and some orange juice and a couple of coffees. $25.98. Yep, that’s right, three items from the bakery, three plastic containers of orange juice (the single serving kind), and two cups of coffee. Small cups. $25.98. Turns out the orange juice is spun from gold or something. $4.50 each. Each. Oh. Doug pays, we leave and the million dollar OJ becomes one of the jokes for the week.
All the boys play in the park while I check out, of the motel. We pile in the car to head to Twin Lakes. Frank throws up on the way. First two changes of clothing now covered in million dollar orange juice, in trash bags, to be washed in SIX DAYS when we get home. Yippee!
We take the turnoff to Mammoth Lakes and then a few miles later, the turnoff to Twin Lakes.
We drive around the campground and find a site we like and it just so happens the people inhabiting it are packing up and heading home. We fill out our little white slip, put it on top of their orange slip, pay the campground host, and then wait as the previous tenants vacate.
The spot is perfect. We have a beautiful view of the lake, but it isn’t close enough that we have to be concerned about Beckett running and jumping in; the bathrooms are close, but not too close, and neither are the neighbors. We unpack and start setting up. Doug and I eventually realize that CJ is having trouble getting his tent up. So we join him, in having trouble getting his tent up. I would be willing to bet good money that all around that campground people were having a whole lot of fun watching the three of us trying to figure out how to get this tent up. There may even have been wagers as to how long it would take us. One woman did walk by and offer a couple of suggestions. I listened, but didn’t really care for the shit-eating grin she had on her face (really I think she was trying really, really hard not to burst out laughing). Bitch.
So we stop and call CJ’s dad. The cell phone coverage is spotty. It takes three or four phone calls to get a hint as to how to set this tent up. Three hours later (or so it seemed), we had an erect tent.
To be continued . . .
Wednesday, August 03, 2005
Vacation
We're goin' on vacation, we're goin' on vacation. I can't wait! Expect extra long posts upon my return (as usual)!
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