I apologize for disappearing again. Like I said in my last post, summer, even without big plans, is turning out to be busier than the school year! In the last couple of weeks, I’ve:
- Plotted and wrote a synopsis for a possible third Venus book.
- Done all my page proofs for VENUS GUY TRAP.
- Interviewed, planned, and wrote 4 articles.
- Wrote about 40 pages for the YA I’m working on (though I’d wanted to write much more!)
- Participated in all the usual busy stuff around the house.
We did attempt to take a vacation this year though. This weekend, in fact. (Note that I’m writing this on Sunday morning, so you can see where this is going and how little of the weekend this vacation actually took up.)
Every year, my kids take a 5 day trip with my parents and my sister and her family and my brother’s kids. My husband and I, and my brother and his wife, join when we can. This year, Water Guy and I planned on going up to Fort Worden, where they were camping, on Saturday morning early and would come home Sunday afternoon.
It’s “only” a two hour drive to Fort Worden, a 19th century military fort with bunkers built into the bluffs overlooking Puget Sound, a couple of miles of sandy and rocky beaches to explore, camping, hiking, etc.
Fort Worden is kind of special to my family, in that my dad and his family were stationed there when he was a kid. He lived in one of the officer’s quarters houses, like those at the left, and I believe his youngest brother was born here (and ended up with the middle name Worden).
We love it there. There’s lots to do and explore. As long as Mother Nature cooperates.
Which she wasn’t this weekend. I think she was PMSing, seriously.
I’m betting most of my fellow Seattle-ites will wonder what the heck I’ve been smoking, because the Greater Seattle area is going into a nasty heat wave. It was 85 and muggy here yesterday.
It was probably 80 and gorgeous at Fort Worden (two hours away). Water Guy and I drove my Jeep up early, arriving around 9 a.m. to blue skies and sunshine. We spent the morning on the beach before my parents had to head home with my niece and nephew and so that they could attend a wedding. Water Guy and I were taking over their trailer for the night, while my kids slept in one tent and my sister’s family in the other.
After a great day at the marina, feeding starfish and anemones, petting sea cucumbers and feather worms, we played on the beach some more, visited a couple of bunkers (and a way-too-long hike for my mostly sedentary body), we headed back to camp for dinner. By this time, it was 6 p.m., and the wind was kicking up. Because it was suddenly really chilly, all 8 of us piled into my parents’ trailer (very tightly) and scrounged leftovers for dinner.
By 6:30, Mother Nature decided to put on a show. Though sunset wasn’t until about 9 p.m., I’m pretty sure it turned in early. The sky blackened, the rain began, followed closely by it’s bickering siblings Thunder and Lightning.
Now, I love me a storm…at home, in the bosom of my living room, dry and comfortable. NOT crammed into a travel trailer with 5 adults and three kids, who got increasingly tired and bored by 9:30 p.m. Every so often, when we finally couldn’t hold out hope the storm was going to stop, we adults would rush outside and save what we could. Unfortunately, this did not include the bedding in my sister’s tent, which was soaked.
By 9:30 p.m., deciding it was inevitable that SOMEONE would have to leave in order for ANYONE to get any sleep that night. Water Guy and I hastily packed up and ventured out into the dark and stormy night.
Two hours later, we entered our 90-degree hot and muggy house. But we were dry, unlike the rest of the Fam Damily. Darling Daugther reported this morning my brother-in-law slept in the truck, while my sister and all the kids took up all the beds in the trailer. I’m sure they were all comfortable. Not.
Apparently it’s a good thing we deserted, though. The tent leaked like a seive all night long, which would have shortened their trip greatly, I’m sure. Oh, well.
And the kicker? First thing my daughter texts to me this morning isn’t that my parents were upset that they arrived back at camp this morning to find themselves sad we had left. Or that my dear sweet sister was going to miss the bonding time we’d have had today. Or that my OWN CHILDREN were sorry we had left.
No, she texted me that everyone was pissed we left with the cooler of homemade fried chicken I’d brought with us instead of leaving it for them. Sheesh. Talk about feeling the love.