D-day minus two...and counting. 60 guests, ready to eat, drink, and be merry are fixing to descend on our unprepared heads. Our mission, should we choose to accept it? To get prepared. To become Martha Stewart-like. To be Marthaesque. To have a Marthatudinousness about ourselves. To be, as it were, Marthonic...the hostesses with the mostest. Or, if you're not comfortable with Martha's suburban vernacular, to "break some necks while we flex our sex appeal." Thanks, L.L. -- I got your back next time.
"Unprepared heads," may be a little bit overstated. Calvin and Rosalie had actually done a ton of preparation to throw what was shaping up to be one lulu of an engagement party this coming Sunday. They had already done beautiful invitations and rented a wonderful house in Shaver Lake for the festivities. The only thing that was left was to gather food and drink. Sustenance. Libations.
To this noble end, we drove back down the hill to Fresno and recruited Kristanne's Uncle Stanley, an Extreme Fellow Traveller and confirmed Costco Member. That's Stanley at top, ready to do some shopping. Costco membership card in hand, we all piled into Otto and headed for the Land O' Bulk Package Groceries, ready to buy tortilla chips, tires, televisions, and more laundry soap than one person could possibly use in a lifetime.
I was a little worried from the outset of our little shopping excursion -- Rosalie had a mad glint in her eye that could only presage some really intense overshopping. I'm talking tubs of guacamole, vats of maple syrup, entire nations of packaged, frozen foods...a tireless parade of gluttony that would end only when the last five-gallon drum of Dinty Moore beef stew in the store was offloaded into Otto's passenger compartment. I could now see where Kristanne's legendary automotive intensity came from -- the same monomaniacal glee I now saw in Rosalie, I had seen a thousand times before in Kristanne as she rumbled down America's highways. The bond between mother and daughter can be a terrible thing to behold.
After filling our carts with enough rations to last the Spartans through the Peleponnesian Wars, we'd had enough. We'd gorged ourselves on the generous free samples offered by Costco, so there was no need to even think of lunch. We headed back to Shaver Lake, stopping at the Party Fun Warehouse (sic) for tablecloths, napkins, and assorted geegaws, and then at an honest to t-bone grocery store for some things Costco didn't have. Like vegetables. And croutons.
| Somewhat wilted from the summer heat, we moved out of the Bohner cabin and into the rental cabin we would use for the party. That's the Bohner cabin there at right. Nice, huh? It's a great place, but it sorta paled in comparison to the cabin Calvin and Rosalie rented for the party. Cabin isn't even the word -- this sucker was huge, a regular four-point buck of a house, complete with four bedrooms, three bathrooms, and an Otto-sized garage. Nice. We got our groceries stowed as best we could and sat down to watch a video. We got "Lone Star," the John Sayles flick starring a welcome Kris Kristofferson, among others. If you haven't seen this movie yet, do. It's not a western, it's just plain good. Sayles did "Eight Men Out," among other noted classics of American indie films. And while you're at it, buy the soundtrack -- it has a couple great Little Walter tunes, along with some Tejano that will send you out looking for Berlitz tapes. Tell 'em El Cid sent you. |  |
With that, the day was done. Supplies were laid in, and guests were imminent. Join us tomorrow as we meet my parents at the airport, along with a few surprise guests. Mystery! Intrigue! Annoying references to "Hill Street Blues" that no one else will get!
Total Miles for 8/8 = 120