Celebrated the Fourth this year doing what every red-blooded American does, going to the suburbs to buy expensive, ugly furniture on sale, playing horseshoes, then watching shit blow up.
Our couch has finally reached a point of uncomfortableness to prompt me to get a new one. We didn't go so over-the-top as to get the one with the motorized recliner and built-in cupholders, but close. Now we just have to paint the TV room before it gets delivered next week.
A. got a set of horseshoes last year, and we finally broke them out and went to the park by my house, which actually has horseshoe pits. Several folks wandered by amazed that anyone still plays. It was my first time in a long time, and I suck, but did manage to get one ringer.
Then walked up to the bridge to watch the fireworks on the waterfront. A good display, as usual, and a lot of impressive and expensive illegals in the neighborhood. My compliments to my neighbors who spent ridiculous amounts of money to blow shit up, so I didn't have to.
Another call from my stepmom this morning to tell me that our wonderful Colorado mountain cabin had been broken into, and trashed, for the SECOND FRIGGIN' TIME IN A MONTH! Thanks so much Boulder County Sherrif's Department (sorry, Pitt) for not catching these stupid tweaker fuckheads. They're obviously doing this all over the area, camped out in one cabin after another. I know it's wooded and the roads are shite, but damn! In the 40-odd years the cabin's been there it was broken into once, in the middle of winter, by some lost idiots who just need to get warm. Now we've been vandalized twice in a month in the middle of summer when there are a fair number of people around. I really wish I could go up there and spend some time this summer, but work isn't allowing that right now. Rrrrr, so mad.
*EDIT* My dad just got back from surveying the damage with the deputy, and all signs point to it being a bear breaking in, not human. Apparently the people that broke in the last time had left a bucket full of cooked food stashed somewhere my dad didn't notice when he was cleaning up, and the smell of it rotting attracted the bear, who broke in through a window. The bear made almost more of a mess than the human vandals, but the stress factor of a bear break-in is much lower. Can't blame the bear for wanting the food. Anyway, bears are less likely to screw up the mechanism on the Victrola or remove artwork, and that's mostly what I worry about. Apparently it really stinks in there, though, with the rotting food and bear crap. The bear ate a bunch of sugar (not surprising) and a bottle of Maalox. He'll probably need it.
What a friggin' screwed-up weekend.
Saturday - all-day wedding & beyond. Chris and Veronica, bless their hearts, tied the knot in a pleasant ceremony at Hoyt Arboretum (yes, we have looking at trees). Weather was clear, warm, but not hot. Several out-of-towners I hadn't seen in a coon's age came out, including Angelic Steve, Had Matter, and Tirza. Food was excellent. A. had to go to another wedding at the same time, but we all met up later at my place, and went to La Carreta, where no one got La Casuela (whatever). Long day full of catching up and drinking.
Sunday - the weirdness begins. Message on the voicemail in the morning that my uncle died from a long illness that he had kept secret, and my dad and stepmom totalled their newish car when they ran into a large rock on their mountain road (no one seriously hurt). My aunt and grandmother are currently in Norway on a fjord cruise, making everything even more complicated. Memorial services will wait until they get back, but I can't even imagine how my aunt is going to get through the rest of their trip. He was a good guy, and he and my aunt were always happy together. I feel bad that I never went to Michigan to visit them, now it's imperative that I go for the memorial.
Can I make the bad news stop now?