camping, anyone?

This weekend was a long one...we had 4 days off for Easter...and decided to go camping for two of them. What I had in mind was a quiet weekend in a tent, hiking some, reading, spinning, maybe some knitting, and a swim - just generally doing what I wanted to and escaping the noise of the city and escaping people. What I got was just the opposite.

We started out well enough - we packed a few things for just two days, Thursday and Friday. Celeste was going to stay with her buddies and we could play without worrying about where she was. On the way to drop Celeste off, O told me that we were going to take Landeo and his family with us. So much for escaping the noise. The Landeo family has three boys who pick on each other, whine, cry, yell, and generally make life miserable for everyone around them. The mother, Rosa, spends her time yelling at the boys and giving orders to whomever happens to be close. Landeo himself usually spends his time at work, so he doesn't have to deal with the family too much at one time. So, the 2 hour ride up to the campground was kind of miserable for me. By the time we arrived, I had a headache from all the racket going on in the back seats (we have a minivan, so there's always plenty of room for others.)

The campground was well-populated by the time we arrived, but there were places to put up a tent. I have never understood why people say they want to get out of town and then basically bring everything from town with them. Maybe I'm too much like my mother in this respect. O and I brought a tent, sleeping bags, and a change of clothes. On top of tents and sleeping bags and clothes, Rosa brought a boombox, toys, candy, soda, an iron, 6 blankets, a different bottle of shampoo for each boy, an umbrella, a curling iron, make-up, an evening gown and heels, a suit for each boy and her husband, and 4 pairs of socks and shoes for each of them. I guess you just never know when you will encounter a formal party during a camping trip.

Half an hour after we arrived, several of O's friends from work also arrived and pitched their tents right next to ours. Okay, I as glad that O had some other friends to talk to, because I knew that I would be a boring partner for him, just hiking and spinning, and maybe doing some knitting. But not long after they got to talking, a crate (12 liters) of beer arrived, and then a bottle of pisco, and by dark, these people were completely wasted. I took a walk for a few hours, then went back to the tent to sleep, but the party continued for a few hours more. Then I heard our car start up and O and Landeo were off on a joyride down the mountain. CRAP. Two drunks in a car on a mountain road. Not the best of situations. O and I have had NUMEROUS discussions about this and he promise me that he would NEVER drink and drive. By the time he returned, I had been worried, scared, and furious by turns. I heard the car arrive and was on my way out to talk to him, when he cranked it up again. ARRRGH! I flew to that car, pounding on the window and screaming for him to open the door. He did and I demanded the keys. He handed them over, in shock, I think. I took the keys and slammed the door in his face. Yup, in shock. I had never lost it like that, but this time, along with the way the weekend was going, to have O pull something like driving under the influence was just the limit of my endurance.

I later heard him asking his buddies what MY problem was, and resisted the temptation to march out there and attack him verbally. I know that talking to a person who has been celebrating and drinking for hours is pretty much a lost cause. No point to it, because he wouldn't remember it in the morning anyway. And it was true - the next morning, he couldn't find the car keys (because I had them) and didn't remember that I had almost crushed him in the car door after I got the keys away from him. We still need to have a talk about that. We did talk that night - he came into the tent crying and upset that I treated him badly and why and it wasn't his fault, and what had happened that I was so mad, and so on and so forth. I was straight with him and told him exactly what the problem was, which made him cry more, but...like I said, the next morning, he didn't remember. All he knew was that he had a massive headache and a terrible hangover, and he spent a good part of the day sleeping it off.

We left the campground about 6 pm on Friday. We dropped off the whining, crying, and yelling at their house, then went to pick up Celeste. At that house, we were offered a little to eat, ate and got sick later that night. I spent Saturday in bed, feeling like crap.

But today is a better day. It's the last day of the weekend, and I have time to spin, knit, and go for a walk, which was all I really wanted to do in the first place.

Okay, now I'm done fussing and whining. No more of that, I promise.