Vacation Update: I Fell Down and Broke My Butt
Loud drunken frat boys- no charge!
The falls meander down into several small pools just right for swimming.
But no one tells you about the slimy rocks. Malevolent, evil rocks. Rocks that jump up and slam you down when you step on them.
These, in particular. They lie in wait for an innocent, unsuspecting woman to walk on them, deluding the poor female into thinking she actually has a good foothold, then- BAM! One cracked coccyx later, they cackle maniacally and give each other the stone version of high fives.
Got my daughter too. She now wants a t-shirt that reads, "My Parents Went to Turner Falls and All I Got Was A Fractured Patella."
We did the usual fun camp stuff.
The four man tent that sleeps 3 1/3.
Shoving down s'mores.
Wearing cute dorky camper hats. Yes, the cute dorky camper is me after 1 1/2 hours of sleep, a sore tushy and showering in a tiny semi-public cube. Fire away.
We were also cleaned out by larcenous racoons for whom a tight fitting igloo lid was child's play, and swarmed by Gatorade addicted bees, but overall it was a nice vacation. Even if I can't sit without grimacing. And my best friend laughed at me when I called to get sympathy. "Rocks have algae that makes them slippery? Biology 101!" That's okay. When she calls me for sympathy when she's had no sleep because Ali has gotten up four times during the night, I'll just remind her of her precious biology. "Babies don't sleep through the night? Imagine!"
Yes, everyone had a pretty good time. Except those that were left behind.
They had better bring me back some Snausages. Big ones.