Road Warriors is Back!

I been saving myself for the past two months. Gearing up for Road Warriors.

No. Not really.

Actually, if you want the truth, writing here is a luxury. I love it. But it feels…irresponsible, somehow, when all Hell is breaking loose elsewhere. So, it becomes a luxury I can’t afford. Is that the long-lost catholic guilt in me? I don’t think so. I think it’s the good ‘ol Aksteter martyr in me. Regardless. Something had to give, and as much I’d like for it to have been soccer, it was the blog. Summer is coming to a close, though — just this morning, Morgan trooped off to her first dreaded “two a day” soccer practices. –The start of school sports. Blech.

And, we just returned from our annual camping trip. It was HEAVEN to get away. *Spoiler alert* And nothing BAD happened. Which, I will admit in advance, makes for dull reading, but makes for an awesome trip.

As always, I will write directly from the journal. If anything needs to be explained further or clarified, I will use [brackets].

So, without further ado!

ROAD WARRIORS FOUR: ON THE ROAD AGAIN.

Prologue

Morgan tried, with no success, to enlist travel companions again this year. Seems she rather enjoyed the Kooistras last year. Not that I didn’t. (I did!) I just knew, from our own ridiculous schedule, that it was pretty unlikely that they would be able to go during the only week that we would be able to go.

And, as usual, I was right. [If you are new here, please note: this is a major theme.] Only, it took a few weeks for me to be able to say “Aha! I was right,” because, also as usual, it took Jan and Wes several more calls and texts — and weeks — to get back to us with that information. Once I delivered this devastating news to Morgan, the search was on for a new camping family. I, of course, knew that this was a virtual impossibility, but ahhhh the naiveté and hope of the young! So sweet.

And in the end, she was crushed like a bug.

But really. Who are we? Dave, Charlie and I? Are we chopped liver? Buck up, little camper. We are going to have SO MUCH FUN together!

CHAPTER ONE, DAY ONE.

Friday, 8/3/12, 5 pm

So. Much. Work. I really had it good this year. No panicking. No 9 pm rooster attacks while I frantically made the spaghetti. [El Señor has left the area. He is, as we refer to it, “on walk-about”. aka: dead.] I was pretty organized. I made and froze the spaghetti and tacos on Monday. Made and froze the banana bread over the weekend. Planned to — horrors! — BUY a rotisserie chicken instead of frying one. Had been setting things out in the laundry room for over a week. But today? Still ten solid hours of prep. TEN FLIPPIN’ HOURS! That doesn’t even count the stuff leading up to today.

Why is that? I seriously want to know. [Chris: this means you. I was at your house the day before you left for the week with five (or is it six? I can never remember) kids and you were playing checkers — CHECKERS — with Maili the night before you were to leave at 9 in the morning. And! Charlie was sleeping over that night! I would never let my kids have friends over the night before we left. God forbid they see what a freak-out bitch I can be! *breath* *breath* Can you see how hysterical I become? Does this happen to anyone else?] What the heck?

The meal line-up is: spaghetti, flank steak kabobs, tacos, green curry and rib eyes… I feel like there is one more, cuz that is only 5 meals… but I can’t remember. The garden, for all its issues this summer, was good to us in all areas except edamame. Which is a serious drag. — and also a first, if my bad memory serves me. In its place, I am lugging along a suitcase of cambozola. [Camembert/gorgonzola cheese, like a creamy blue. Worth dying for.] A delicious substitute that involves a 1500% uptick in fat grams and serves no nutritional purpose whatsoever.

Perfect.

Well, after telling everyone we were heading to Colorado again, we are currently headed west on I-94 towards western Montana and northern Idaho. That’s about all I know. So it’ll be as much a surprise for me as for you. I know this much:

….never mind. I guess he doesn’t really know where we are going either. I guess the plan is that we decide once we get to Bozeman. Which is a serious head-scratcher, really, since the guy has been pouring over maps every night for the past week. And he really doesn’t know where we are going? It isn’t like I care. I just find it… odd.

The plan is to drive through the night. We shall see…

[sorry. no photos from day one. I forgot to take any pictures.]