july 3, 2008

recently, the baron and the husband traveled to upstate new york, to a town called schroon lake. the husband's entire (and very large) family meets there, on a yearly-ish basis, for the fourth of july. the husband's family typically goes for an entire week, though this year - as they had BOTH had recently started new jobs - the baron and the husband received special dispensation to shorten their time at schroon lake; they would only be there for three days. the husband's siblings bring their children, so the baron and the husband decided to bring one of theirs, too. it would be tucker bear's first time to a lake, his first time to new york, and his first time on vacation with mom and dad where he didn't have to share them with his brothers and sister. one of the best things about tucker is that he thinks everything is a potential adventure. in the photo below, tucker is in the cab of the husband's truck, waiting for the fun to happen.


the drive to schroon lake takes between 8-9 hours, so the husband and the baron spent most of july 3 driving. they left rather early in the morning (as evidenced by the husband, below, getting his coffee on) and aimed to be to the lake by 2 o'clock that afternoon.



the baron, distracted, took a self-portrait somewhere along the way.

the baron, the husband and tucker arrived to the lake in the early afternoon, paid homage to their hosts (and owners of the lake front property) and set to unpacking. soon after, they found the husband's parents and had drinks in hand. it wasn't too long after that - the handing around of wine - that the baron and the husband got an earful about the tensions of the week. this - the relating of the week's stories (including one about someone not saying hello to someone else in a timely enough manner, a broken toilet and a newly dug trench for pipes), punctuated with heavy sighs and pregnant pauses meant to indicate a (perceived or real) slight - sent the baron back to her cabin in search of something stronger than wine.

(the baron will take a moment here to say this: her family is 3 people. three. her mother, her brother, and herself. they used to be four, but then her father died, and her nuclear unit reshaped itself as 3. they are quiet - not timid, but not raucous either. they don't talk over each other, and anyway, even if they do, there's just 3 of them and 3 voices are not that hard to parse out from each other. at the house of the baron's mother, there isn't much in the way of simmering, decades-old tensions; being just 3, they've put those past misdeeds mostly behind them. at the husband's house, maybe because there's just so many of them (the husband has 5 siblings and 2 parents), sides are easily taken, lines are easily drawn in the sand, and just when something begins to scab over, some sibling will inevitably draw blood all over again. for the baron, integrating herself into the husband's family has been - and still is - kind of hard.)

the husband soon joined her in their cabin and made the baron's recent favorite drink - a bloody mary. the baron nursed her drink while she and the husband unpacked a little more, mixed with other members of his family, delighted in tucker (who was himself delighting in both the attention of children and the expanse of yard) and soaked in the beauty of the place. shortly, the husband and one of his brothers-in-law decided to head to the grocery store, leaving the baron alone in the cabin with tucker and a refreshed drink. in hindsight, perhaps this second bloody mary was a bad idea.

not too long after the husband's departure, the baron decided to make friendly with her in-laws, so she took her drink back to the husband's parents' cabin. she cannot remember what all was said, who was there, or if she participated at all - she has a feeling she was mostly sitting in the corner, chiming in when necessary, and trying to appear 'slightly', as opposed to 'very', drunk. ahem. when she saw the husband return with groceries, the baron and tucker excused themselves and headed for their cabin. her drink was gone. ahem. she found the husband and the groceries and said, "i don't feel good."

it was by this time 5 or 6 o'clock in the evening; the husband put the baron to bed and made her excuses to his family. she slept, though not restfully, and occasionally the husband would come in to check on her and to report on the evening's activities. at his 9 o'clock visit, the baron asked for the trash can, which was thankfully lined, and threw up two bloody marys, guacamole, and some corn chips into it. amazingly, after purging herself of the excess vodka, the baron felt much improved - so improved, in fact, that she joined everyone at the beach for the night's bonfire.

it was an adventure indeed.