Late arrivals? Check.
Useless, self-centered, no-longer-pregnant-but-life-is-still-so-hard-for-me in-laws? Check.
Complete lack of communication and organization? Check.
Intense need to punch someone in the face? Oh, fuck. Double check.
|at least there were pretty water falls.|
The original plan had been for people to start arriving to help with set up at 9:30. That meant that Hubby and I showed up at 10. We set our stuff up in the empty pavilion, waited around for ten minutes, and drove up to Hubby's family's campsite. We finally got them wrangled down there around 10:30, unloaded their copious amounts of shit, and set up by ourselves because they hadn't even eaten breakfast yet.
Around 1, the guy that apparently has to do the grilling had just showed up and the charcoal wasn't even going yet. Since we left our dogs in the house, and it didn't look like things were going to start picking up any time soon, we drove back home and returned around 1:30 with them. They had just finished grilling. 9:30 what?
This was the theme for the whole day. This, and "Oh em gee, I have a baby now. Hold it! Feed it! Take its picture! Tell me how wonderful it is!" Hubby likes kids. I hate babies. Sorry, babies, but I hate you. Hubby's mom was all, "Get in the picture with It and Hubby!" and I was all, "Step the fuck off. Get that thing away from me."
|yeah right, hubby. never happening. ever.|
To escape the majority of Hubby's extended family, we went on a five mile hike. I was feeling like a beast jetting up the sides of waterfalls on "stairs". My 100 squats a day have really made my legs stronger--at least if I have to climb waterfalls. It's debatable how much stronger they are in my saddle.
We got back around 5:30 and agreed as a group that we'd leave no later than 6:15 for the rodeo. That translated to missing dinner (as if they'd have dinner going by then), and of course not leaving until 6:45. Hubby's family is so incapable of doing anything on time that I literally feel like shaking people. And then leaving them behind.
We made it to the rodeo at the exact minute it started and got lucky to find enough seating to fit six people. We watched the opening ceremonies, watched a saddle bronc rider get hung up and clobbered in the back of the head (he was down for about five minutes, but got back on later that night for a bull ride--with a helmet on), and watched the steer wrestling before the first of the horrible intermission acts.
|dude that got wrecked.|
I attempted to watch this nonsense of a "Native American" performer and his two paint horses go at liberty. Instead, I went to get milkshakes and funnel cake. This guy's training was horrible. His horses weren't paying attention to him, they didn't look happy with their jobs, and his spanish walk was accomplished by smacking his horse under the chin while simultaneously yanking on his reins. It was awful to watch.
|at liberty/led in with chains over their noses.|
We ended the night watching NF kill it on his harmonica with his band that was playing at the rodeo that night. Who knew NF was such a bad ass? He was amazing!
|the frank wicher band--awesome!|
Sunday, we were forced back to the state park for more bonding time. I ended up with really classy tank top and bikini halter top tan lines. Unfortunately, my legs didn't get the tanning message. You could put those albino inspired appendages on the sun and they wouldn't even turn pink. I think it's a sign from the gods that I was meant to be an equestrian. At least that's what I'm telling myself.
Hubby and I somehow managed to keep his smaller immediate family on track and after lunch, a swim, and icecream, we gave them a brief tour of our house and sent them on their way. The only problem was that I forgot to ask Hubby's brother for the GVRDC show pictures. Grr. They were within my grasp! Hopefully, since it's been over a month, my constant nagging will produce them before too long.
Overall? Could have been worse. But keep in mind that I have four days of vacation with them in NY this weekend. Um, yay?