(Lake Party, Part One)
I have a therapy appointment today and I believe I will need it, but not for the usual. I will need it due to a weekend so full of chaotic socializing that it left me on hiding in the master bath, on the toilet seat with the lid down, reading and pretending there was no one else in the house.
(Ha! Now there's a blog beginning for you.)
To put the above image into perspective, I must go back to Thursday, when it all began. Thursday, you may remember, my mother in law came down. I also mentioned that we had rented a pontoon boat. Well, immediately after securing it, the guest list for the pontoon boat began to unfold like those endless scarves pulled out of the magician's hat.
First, it was just young army wife (let's call her Amy) and her husband and little one year old girl. Add to that the couple who had moved from CO the same time we did, with their three year old daughter. Add to that the guy who helped Keith install a PA system into the HD, as well as his wife and their three children, all of them complete strangers to me.
But, let me pause here and talk briefly about the PA system. This is a system identical to those in emergency response vehicles and technically, illegal to be put in anything else without a certificate. Mere technicalities in the Indiana household, I assure you.
Mid day on Friday, the entire house was electrified by the mind shakingly loud alarms which issued forth from the truck after the installation was complete. I mean, the dogs went berserk, the small son of the man assisting Keith leaped in the air and my hair was on end.
I went marching out to order the husband to turn the thing down before our neighbors called the housing association security.
"But it's awesome," protested the man, in the driver's seat, comm in hand.
I paused. "Yes, it is awesome," I admitted, thinking of the original use of the word. "And it's way, way too loud. Turn it down."
Fast toward to that evening when Keith informed me that now the guest list included his brother (the one not deployed) his wife and daughter and that they were due down that night at eleven.
Right. So, let's recap. I had rented a six person pontoon and the guest list now included eleven adults, four children, two toddlers and his mother's mop of a dog. Every time I tried to bring up the logistical impossibilities of this, the husband dear waved my concerns away. He thought most people wouldn't show up.
At eleven or so, his brother and family showed up and all hell broke loose as Keith had to show off his PA system and then began watching "Ironman" at ear splitting decibel levels. Around one am everyone had settled in, around two am I fell into an anxiety troubled sleep.
We woke in the eery calm before the storm. We women made breakfast together and it was actually very nice. I felt like it was one of the church gatherings that used to happen annually when I was a child; when the house would be full of family and sunlight and plans. We all drank coffee and juice and had scrambled eggs and toast.
Then I knew the reckoning could be put off no longer.
"So," I said, leaning my shoulder against the doorpost. "How many people are coming?"
I watched my brother in law's eyes widen as he heard Keith rattle off names. With the added pressure of his family and the time fast approaching, Keith was forced into reality.
"I'll call the Marina and see if we can rent a larger pontoon," he admitted.
"I think you had better do that," I agreed.
A larger one was available, for one hundred seventy five dollars for the afternoon, not including the gas and oil. We rented that one.
"What about food?" I then asked. By now, it was ten thirty in the morning, we had to be ready by twelve thirty. "Are we feeding everyone? If so, what? What are the kids going to do on the boat for five hours?"
He called everyone, told them to bring their own food and snacks, explained that we'd had to rent a larger boat and people were happy to chip in to help with the cost. I and sister in law and niece drove down to the local for sandwich makings.
We came back to a packed house. In a flurry of preparation, I put together a pasta salad, sandwich stuff, drinks, sun block, wipes, books, house key, a check to pay for the boat, Keith's wallet and the housing association card. I did not get a chance to shower and I was not wearing a bathing suit, it being a tad on the cool side.
Amy's husband had brought along a side of ribs, perhaps thinking we were grilling on the lake. Since we were not, Keith loudly proclaimed that everyone would come back to the house straight from the five hour boat ride to grill out burgers and ribs for dinner.
I heard him, but I was past caring; I was in sheer survival mode and quite numb.
The boat ride itself went very well. We stayed in groups; the army folks in one and Keith's family in the other, but we all started to mingle when we dry docked the pontoon on the association beach (perfectly empty and lovely). Kids and insane guys jumped off the pontoon and splashed their shrieking wives with the incredibly cold lake water.
Keith was the captain and piloted the boat all the way around the lake, which was much larger than any of us had thought. We glided past wood tangled shore, watched turtles and deer and ducks. ("See kids, I told you we were going on a safari," said one wife merrily.) We all shamelessly ogled at the huge and marvelous lake front houses with their multiple decks and docks. ("Redneck Yacht Club" proudly proclaimed one little house, built on someones dock.)
To be conotinued...
