Family: July 30, 2010
Posted on July 7, 2010[Continued from "Family: July 29, 2010."]
We slept in the room that will eventually be the baby’s room. My sister and her girlfriend are trying to get the girlfriend pregnant. Thankfully, there weren’t yet any baby paraphernalia around.
My sister made us yummy French toast, and then the Viking and I were ready to go. The four of us were going to the same place but the Viking and I had done our prep work before we left San Francisco. We stopped for ice and wine. Ice for the ice chest. Wine for me, because it’s best not to be sober around my family.
We drove east. The weather changed significantly. In Humboldt County it was in the 60s and foggy. In Shasta County it was in the 90s and dry.
When we arrived at the campground, our tent was already set up. The Viking and I set up the rest of our site, which was in full sun at that time of the day. We were right next to the lake, the water of which looked refreshing. I wanted to put my suit on and go for a quick swim with my step-sister and her two daughters. I put my bathing suit in our bag in San Francisco. However, when I looked for it once I wanted to don it, it was nowhere to be found. I dumped out our bag, and went through all of our clothes but no swimsuit.
But I wanted to swim! I was forced to take swimming lessons as a child. I’m glad now, because I don’t worry I’m going to drown, but when I was a kid I hated it. I’m not a strong swimmer, but I’m fine if the water is over my head. I can tread water for a while. So I hopped in the water in my clothes. It was hot enough that padding around in wet clothes was more of a benefit than a detriment.
Pretty quickly I realized I could leave Isis off her leash without fear that she’d run off; she followed me around everywhere. When I jumped in the lake she came right to the edge and looked worried. I pulled her in the water and then swam out a bit. She tried to follow me, she did, but Isis is not a good swimmer. What I could see of her face looked panicked; her head was barely above the water. I swam to her so she would no longer feel the need to swim toward me. Once she got back on shore, she avoided getting in the water again for the rest of the trip.
It was still hot, though, so to cool down Isis lay down in the dirt. She was a very dirty dog while we were camping.
That evening more people arrived. We had five camp sites to accommodate everyone, which included my dad and step-mother; my step-sister and her two daughters; my sister and her girlfriend; my step-mother’s brother, his wife, and their adult daughter; and my step-mother’s brother’s adult son, his wife, and their son and daughter. My step-brother and his girlfriend would arrive with their dog the next day.
We just hung out and visited. I told my father about the move to Chicago. My step-mother, who lived in the Midwest over 30 years ago, was amazingly not as negative as I expected her to be about the weather. She suggested I get proper gear, which would make a huge difference in the winter.
Eventually the conversation became repetitive and boring. And repetitive and boring. My family doesn’t talk about anything of import so there are few arguments. Or even discussions. Boring.
The Viking and I went to bed. The tent was big enough for us to stand in. It was also big enough for our two sleeping bags, our clothes and such strewn about haphazardly, Isis’ bed, and empty space. If the Viking and I had gotten into a fight we could have easily avoided each other in opposite corners of the tent.
We did not get in a fight though. Instead, we fucked. I had warned him that we’d not be able to fuck on the trip because we’d always be in close proximity to my family, and because I’ve gotten quite used to not having to be quiet. I’m an adult who likes to fuck loud and so I do.
I had to be quiet that night though. We could hear other family members talking about the same boring and repetitive shit they’d been talking about all evening, so it was easy to tell they couldn’t hear us. It was the quietest I’ve ever been fucking the Viking. We were so quiet we didn’t even disturb Isis, who was sleeping on her bed next to us.
On the way to the bathroom, I realized that my sister, step-sister, and sister’s girlfriend were up and having an actually interesting conversation so I hung out with them for a while. The Viking and Isis stayed in the tent. Us girls were talking about things we had in common; the Viking would have been bored. Isis was pooped out from the heat and outdoor explorations.
Having spent many childhood summers in Shasta County, I know it doesn’t cool down much at night. We slept on the sleeping bags, not in them. That night it cooled down nicely so we slept well. Which was good, since my family members tend to rise early and rudely.
To be continued.
I swear. True story.
Tags: Chicago, hotel fuck, manners
Categories: True Story.
[...] [Continued from "Family: July 30, 2010."] [...]
04.08.2010 23:25