Man. Talk about a tough life. We have to spend a week in Chelan when it's not too hot, not too cold. We'll be stuck there midweek when the beaches are deserted and our main charge is to make sure the dog, cats, and house survive. Ugh. Tough.
Right from the beginning it was tough. Amy went over on Thursday with the kids while I went to work. Blech. (Really, this part wasn't ideal.) Then I had to go hiking Thursday night.
Friday was more of the same. Work, work, work, work, work.
Sunday? We had to go looking for stuff and sleep outside. OUTSIDE! That's where the animals live! Shelter is what separates us from the animals. Oh, the horror.
Monday? Beach. With wind! Really, Mother Nature? Really? Wind?
Tuesday? Beach. I know. Again.
Wednesday? I don't know. It's all blending together. Beach, I think. They say when you're locked in prison you lose track of the days. I hope Nicole doesn't find where I tried to keep track by carving in the wall.
Thursday we were looking for stuff again. And this time it wasn't even there!
Friday we were stuck on the beach again and this time there was no wind so it was too hot. Real hot. Like 75 or 80 degrees. 75 or 80! Way too hot and with a sunset that we were sure was actually the end of the world. Scared us to death. To. Death. All red and gold and orange. Yikes. It's not natural.
Saturday some moron drug us into the hills and all we saw was a lousy waterfall. Big whoop. Hello. Gravity. Ever heard of it? It's not like water falling down a mountain is something new. Plus, that night some yahoos at the end of the lake were lighting stuff on fire. Good plan, guys. Real smart.
Sunday was terrible, too, but at least we knew the ordeal was coming to an end. We barely escaped with all our stuff.
One thing I can say for sure. We'll never forget this week. Not ever.