Friday, June 23, 2006

We're Baaackkkkkk

Obbie and I returned from the beach today.

Which is both a good and a bad thing.

A bad thing because, we're back from the beach. It's not beach here at the Groundhog Ranch. No two dollar drafts at happy hour 2 minutes from the campsite. No sleeping until 7, no leisurely stroll around the campground, no sunning on the beach from 10 am until 1:00 pm. No noon dips in the ocean. No Grotto pizza for dinner. No lounging around the campfire until we fall asleep in the camp chairs.

A good thing because: A very large and surly storm front is squatting down over the Delmarva Peninsula, bringing rain, fierce lightening and 'damaging winds'. A good thing because, yesterday afternoon, the campsite across from us was invaded by the Farkle Family. With them, the Farkles brought a very loud generator, an unruly popup camper, two blase teenagers, two hyper young'uns,

and enough equipment to warrant a sherpa. The generator ran on and on into the night, quite past the 'quiet hour' in the campground. I hate it when the real world comes to my campsite.

At 2:30 this morning, a very loud rumble of thunder woke me straight out of the sleeping bag. I jabbed Obbie awake, "wha?" he mumbled, and more thunder and some far off lightning answered him better than I could. We both sprang into action. The Precision Camp Tear Down Drill Team executed perfectly....The entire campsite was torn down, packed up and put away in the truck within a few minutes. (Without the aid of flashlights) As soon as we climbed back into the tent and got settled, all hell broke loose. Torrential rains, lightning, ear shattering thunder, and huge winds invaded our happy little world. It was one of the better storms I've 'seen'. Did I mention we were camped under some pine trees? Yeah. That was cool. But our stuff was dry and put away. As soon as one storm rolled away, another one rolled up on it's heels. Pretty cool. I fell asleep listening to the thunder melt into the waves crashing on the beach. I blame the Farkles and their evil generator. The camping Gods were not pleased.

So this morning, everyone climbed out of their tents and campers and started cleaning up. Except us. We were smugly driving away with a tarp over all the dry stuff, and the tent and air mattress wrapped in another tarp so as not to get anything else wet.

After we got home, (I screwed up because I lost my directions, and missed a little feeder road, we ended up coming the long farkin' way home) we got all the wet stuff out of the truck, and settled down to nap. Making up for the missed sleep of the night before. Some time later, I woke up, and Obbie was sitting on the couch looking at me. "Whats up?" I say. "You're not going to believe this shit" (Oh how I hate it when he starts out that way.) "What?" "Weeel, I was taking the laundry off the clothesline, and I kept smelling something. (I did a short load before we left, a couple afghans, and some shirts, they'd be okay on the line for a day or so) "And then I noticed all kinds of flies swarming around, and I unclip the one afghan and theres a big dead possum all tangled up in it. I didn't look close, but I think it hung itself in it....It's been there a couple days...." He was fairly green. "Oh. Well. Um. Jeez. I don't know what to say." "I need a big trashbag. I'm throwing the whole thing out." "But it was your mom's afghan." "It's one of a dozen of Mom's afghans. And now it's got a dead opossum in it. It's getting thrown out." And with that, he got a jumbo trash bag and a shovel and deposited the opossum and the afghan into the dumpster.

As you can see, no matter how much fun you have, or how well you think you've managed something, at the end of the day, theres always a dead opossum in your laundry. Now THERES a metaphor for life.

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