Year in Review Continued - Partying with the Beavers

Technically the Gracie ordeal started before the new year. The reason I know this is because on New years Eve we partied with the Beavers. It was a Christian party so we didnt drink or anything we just ate and visited and some people played games. It was nice- all of the people involved had children like us, so while it was a nice Christian party it still sounded like a drunken orgy because of the children, which due to sugar intake were spiraling out of controll.

Not really, the wii game kept them pretty occupied. But what I'm getting at is that right after new years I announced we were going home and as we were leaving the Beavers announced the annual sledding party- right in front of the children. The smart people at the party let on that they were going sledding because they were savvy to the wiles of the partying Beavers. But My naive wife and I who generally hate sledding stammered around making excuses. By the next day we new we should do the right thing and take the kids sledding.

One thing, I dont have proper sledding attire- I have hunting and working outdoor gear but mostly I wear my greasy carharts made for workers who sweat spit and swear (on or at their carharts) In the olden days when Wade was a baby and we were youth leaders Linda wore my old carharts which had shrunk in the wash. When we took the kids sledding we looked like we just finished a big job laying sewer pipe. Finally Pookie at least bought some legitimate looking snow gear.

The next day we headed to the hills and on the way witnessed the destruction caused by 80 mph wind gusts which were happening as we drove. Also it was raining. Sideways. We met at the grocery store in Sisters and the Beavers, more or less an appropreately named family because they really are are funloving hard working otter type people with a passle of fun loving otter children, always attending, throwing, or otherwise involved in a party of some fashion, made the command decision to not turn back.

Loyd had a truckload of dry firewood so when the caravan arrived we offloaded the children with their sleds and they headed to the top of this hill, that was covered in ice and boobytrapped with huge Ponderosa pine trees. The wind was whipping through there doubling the trees in two. The rain was steady.

Loyd was having a little trouble starting the fire in the rain so my carharts and I made a sheild to stop the wind and he ignited some newspaper and threw it on the wood which was covered with saw gas. Nothing. Since Loyd had wisely brought a gallon of saw gas I went ahead and filled a dixie cup and threw it on the fire. Better, but the wood was getting pretty wet so the fire didnt take off too great. Another dixie cup, from a distance- still nothing.

So Jason Beaver takes the gas can and starts pouring it on the fire and I told him that wasnt such a good Idea and Marcus, a teenager even, told Jason not to do it. But Jason got the fire going and about the time I thought Jason must know something I dont he caught himself on fire. He dropped the can which was flaming from the spout.

Not exactly knowing what to do we began beating on Jason because 1) he was on fire 2) how often do you get to beat on someone who invited you sledding in front of your children. We made sure he was good and out before we quit smacking him.

After we got Jason out I walked up the hill to warn the children about sledding headlong into a pine tree. The wind through the pine trees caused them to pop like bullwips. The rain was still steady. Great, I fugured, the unneasyness I feel is probobly God trying to tell me to get my family out of there before they were crushed by a blow-down. But I turned a deaf ear to God because I didnt want to dissapoint my kids or the Beavers who could have me excommunticated from the party scene.

Meanwhile back at the fire Mark was roasting organic polish weenies over the fire which was blazing and big. Linda and I ate sprouted bread tuna sandwiches to serve as recompence for the feeding frensy from the night before. We had a great time eating, visiting and occasionally thumping on Jason Beaver just in case. The kids slogged down to the fire for chillie dogs and for once in their lives ate like ravenous wolves and asked for seconds.

When the rain had soaked through my wool cap I announced that it was time to go. I dont know who announces these things when Im not around but you wouldnt beleive how quick everyone in the entire campground packs up when I give the word. Its as if nobody wants to be the party pooper. My job is party pooping. Thats what I do do. Ask my kids. I'm the first one to recognise when the funs over. OK funs over! Once I give the word you can bet that in about 10 minutes you'll hear nothing but crickets chirping. Even the Beavers pack up. Its as if they are saying, Someone please, save us from our partying selves. More likely they just have another party to get to.