It was on the way home from Dallas on Wednesday afternoon, somewhere around Joplin, MO ("God's country", according to Mr. Meredith, Mr. Smith, not Texas) that Peder asked when we were planning on leaving on our camping trip Friday. Yikes... One long, and good, weekend followed immediately by another. So Rachel and I didn't feel the need to unpack, we just shuffled some clothes around and kept most everything in the car for our next trip. That said, let's dive into the previous weekend's activities...
So we took the "short route" to Dallas, which took roughly 7 hours, much better than the usual 8-1/2 going I-35 through Oklahoma City. And this way, we get to drive through Chekotah, Oklahoma, home to Carrie Underwear, or whatever her name was that won American Idol (Jesus didn't take MY wheel). Of course, every town in southern Missouri or Oklahoma has a "Home of..." sign for some astronaut, country singer or founder of some Follies thingy. Not that anybody but me was paying any attention to that in the car...
So we get down to Marshall's expanse around midnightish and the female-deprived boys came out and gave us what I called "explosive hugging". The first round of explosive hugging only cost Charlie a toenail, which naturally went unnoticed as he bled all over the carpet. This was some few seconds after Rachel uttered something to the effect of: "So how long do you think you'll be able to keep this carpet clean?" This was the beginning of the calamity that befell (befalled? befulled???) us.
Fortunately for us, church is now at 2:00 in the afternoon which allowed us to sleep in a bit. The boys made breakfast for the girls and afterwards we all took off to church. Emily and Myra sang for us just after Mr. Chrisman got ordained as an elder, and Mr. Bryce topped off the services with a sermon on "Personalities in Prophecy". Here's an excerpt from my notes: Beast, Anti-Christ, King of the North and King of the South, bad; two witnesses and Jesus Christ, good. It was excellent insight to the end-times, I'm not trying to be a smart aleck. That night, there was much card-, board game- and video game-playing, something that would be a major theme throughout the weekend. Marshall and I went to pick up Leigh from the airport and got back close to 1am. Apparently, there was another round of explosive hugging that caused one of Marshall's Hard Rock cafe glasses to gloriously explode on the floor. But wait, there's more...
Sunday was frisbee day. We played a giant round of disc golf in the early afternoon after eating burgers and dogs on the grill. Well, not on the grill. That would take a real man. Disc golf was followed by more card playing at Marshall's somewhat emptied apartment, the lone source of internetiness (I'm creating all sorts of new terminology with this post... Quote me, Mr. Bush!). This allowed Marshall to research the float trip the next day. It really started to present all sorts of logistical issues, but we pushed through. We had our short bus reserved and had to get up at 6am to head to the airport in morning Dallas rush hour to get it. That wore us out just thinking about it, so naturally, we went and played ultimate frisbee. I, being the fat, winded slob that I am, was traded from Marshall's team for David so the other team "could be more athletic". This, naturally, led to many long throws from David to Marshall, Marshall to David, Dashall to Marvid, etc. In essence, they won, but only by one or two goals. Yes, Karl, Peder and I stayed winded on "defense" while Lacey and Emily ran the field trying to score. Later that night, after a perfect 10 dive (on the Scale of Hilarity) from Peder onto the couch, which made an eerie cracking sound, we avidly discussed the next day's road trip after Marshall declared that the estimated distance to New Braunfels was approximately eleventy billion miles away. Some didn't care about the distance, others preferred renting a pontoon boat on a nearby lake. So that night, after much fanfare, it was decided to stay nearby... Until Marshall declared we were floating. So I went to bed hoping to get 4+ hours of sleep, after which, the "awake ones" decided to stay put. I was awake at 5:45am wondering why nobody was as ready to go as I was.
Monday was a lazy day in the morning and afternoon. Cards were again dealt and controller buttons clicked furiously while color marbles were shot at other colored marbles which were destroyed as tiny gear-turning dragons cheered and a small chick tried to fly. I'll never understand the Japanese... We got around to reserving a pontoon boat in the early afternoon. After leaving, we noticed that all of Dallas appeared to be heading toward the same lake we were. So it took roughly an hour to drive 20 miles or so. But boating was fun after we kicked off Lacey, Diana and Jessica. Apparently, boats have this silly Max Persons Allowed law. So we drove over to a nearby sandy area and swam around the boat. Bets were jokingly hedged on what part of the boat would be damaged first. I had 10-to-one odds and came out on top when the ladder mysteriously disappeared on our second swimming session. That was one competition I wish I hadn't won (there was no grand prize, let me tell you). But we had an enjoyable time on the lake and finally departed for home around 9:00 for pizza and margaritas.
Tuesday was recovery day. A small group went and played disc golf (frolf) again. Then the afternoon came and we ate at Chili's while the stage-3 drought that was affecting the Dallas area was swept over by an impressive downpour. After that, Leigh had to leave us (sniff). That afternoon is when the random singing of the Star Mangled Banner began, but I'll leave that story to Karl's blog. That evening's theme was Cards and Casablanca. Old movies are strange to us modern folk. See, they have this thing called "dialogue" and it generally extends well into periods longer than, say, 20 seconds. This may bore some people (see my post two down), but it certainly takes some getting used to when you're expecting an explosion or some sex scene to come out of nowhere. Overall, I thought it was a good movie. I loved Humphrey Bogart's repeated line to Ingrid Bergman: "Here's looking at you, kid." What exactly does that mean, anyway? I mean, I guess he WAS looking right at her when he said it. That crazy 40s lingo, I tell ya.
Overall, it was a great weekend. We enjoyed staying at the Marshall Mansion, and I highly recommend the rooms and service if you are traveling through the Dallas metropolis in the near future.
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