Wednesday, August 19, 2009

Yelm, Yet Again













There is really no sneaking off to write around here. I’ve tried it twice already and each time someone needed something urgently before I could even open a Word Document. Maybe the third try will be a charm. Whatever that means.

As usual, I had big plans for leaving first thing in the morning but it ended up being second or third. The kids decided to move Josh to the back row, leaving Michael Jr. a seat full of crumbs and Skittles; straight to the car wash vacuum after packing up. Then we remembered Sierra’s friend left her swimsuit; better return that. Josh began clamoring for Black Eyed Peas and Michael’s the only one with them on his iPhone; emergency downloading had to happen. And we were still in Richland.

We took the Vantage route to I-90 and I promised the kids that this time I’d really, no kidding, finally, stop the van next to the sand dunes we always see on Route 243 just before we get to Schawana (essentially a gas station, post office, and orchards). No one believed me but hey, who could blame them?

As we rounded the corner of towering basalt cliffs, there lay the pristine dunes, lined with ripples from the breeze off the Columbia below. I pulled in and the oldest three tore out and up the sandy hill, losing flip flops as they went. Sam and Josh both needed assistance with car seat buckles and couldn’t believe they were being left behind. But not for long. And who knew sand dunes could be so much fun? Okay, probably lots of people, including my kids. We’ll definitely do this on the way back.

Stewart’s Meats was the first stop once we arrived in Yelm. If you’re from these parts it needs no introduction but if not, you my friend, are missing out. This place has been around a million years (76 to be exact) and has the best jerky and pepperoni EVER. I bought two pounds of pepperoni and continued up the road, each child with a two foot rope. I should have taken a picture.

Sierra decided we really needed to watch the special tonight on TV about the Octomom (that so sounds like a super hero but sadly no, just a crazy person). I could only take it up to the point when she and her mother began to argue. Her mother wanted her to acknowledge that what she’d done was, at minimum, irresponsible. The Octobreeder just kept saying, “You can’t go back and ring a bell!” over and over. Isn’t it, “You can’t unring a bell”? Enough. She makes even me, the ultimate suburban breeder, look sane. And for that, I say Thank You Octomom. I just can’t stand extended exposure to your inflated lips and ego.

The evening ended with the Myth Busters swimming through water, light syrup, and heavy syrup in an attempt to prove . . . well, I wasn’t paying attention. They lost me at heavy syrup. Anyway, Mom brought out Dad’s rice/bread pudding (with lemon zest, raisins, and dried cranberries) and I, despite my plan to decline, ended up with two servings. Oh well. No regrets there.




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3 comments:

  1. Ooh... Did you actually post TWO pictures?!? Way to be!!

    ReplyDelete
  2. I think Daver would have a hard time leaving the Stewart's Meats place. He's a meat-a-saurous.

    ReplyDelete

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