The time has come for me to begin chronicling my adventures from July 1st through July 10th. In this chapter, we will discuss the beginnings of my glorious vacation.
After breaking free of the confines of work and responsibility on the 1st (marked by paying my last installment of insanely high DC rent), I ferried myself out to Rockville for a chill evening. The next morning, we rose at around 7:30 to get on our way to my grandparent’s summer place.
I’ll get this out of the way up front, so that I can spend the rest of this post doing damage control: My grandfather bought a small island in the Chesapeake sometime after WWII. Believe me when I say that it’s not because we’re ballers. I don’t think it cost any more than a regular plot of land, he built the house himself, and he was responsible for laying all electrical cables and plumbing to the place. So essentially, it was like owning a normal house, but much more involved.
After spending nearly ever summer weekend there as a child, I’ve found it much more difficult to find the time to visit as I’ve progressed through high school, college, and into the working world. This is obviously a shame, since my grandparents aren’t getting any younger and it’s a splendid place to visit. My grandma is the ultimate host (perhaps a little too much so) and puts out massive spreads for every meal. The only downside is that I have a reputation as an eater and regularly face tremendous pressure to polish everything off.
Furthermore, I greatly enjoy the multitude of projects that constantly need tending to down there. If you are anything like all of the males in my family, you will understand the unique sort of pleasure that is derived from identifying, evaluating, and solving a problem through a combination of careful planning and brute force. Not a weekend goes by that something on the house doesn’t break, whether it’s a pipe, a downspout, or a boat, and I always enjoy being there to fix them.
On this weekend in particular, a tree had fallen across a path. Sensing a chance to relieve some stress, I enthusiastically grabbed an axe to chop it into tiny pieces. I’ll admit, it was worth every second of effort too. Unfortunately, I forgot to wear gloves, so both hands turned into bloody little blisters afterwards, but that’s the price you pay for being a badass.
When not chopping and fixing things, we spent Saturday and Sunday morning taking some boat rides, eating a lot, watching the requisite movie with my grandparents at night, and going out to dinner in an effort to save my grandmother the effort of cooking another enormous meal. After lunch on Sunday, Jenny and I headed back to DC to prepare for our flight to California at 6 AM on the 4th.
Man, I’m long winded this week. I tried (and failed) to actually get to the California part of the trip for the second day in a row. Anyway, I got home late from work today and the microwave is beeping the termination of some dessicated meatballs, so I’ll put off writing about the important parts of the trip again.
Also, have you ever used a fork whilst preparing dinner and then tossed it in the dish washer, only to realize that you need a !%@#ing fork to eat the meal you just finished cooking? Yeah, that just happened.