__________ September 11, 2015 _________

Anna & Her Aunt

Today is our CPL refresher course.  We’re up at the crack of a.m. to go sit thru the class (for the THIRD time), and then hit the range.  My groupings are better this year than last time, but last time I hadn’t practiced *at all*.  And last time the class was run by this TOTAL creep named Larry who thought he was God’s gift to a gun, and treated me like I didn’t belong out there (I’m assuming it was chauvinism, but maybe he just didn’t like anyone in heels.).  He’s not involved, this year, thank goodness.

Okay… the other news.  It got c-c-c-c-COLD out here!!  I mean seriously cold.  We were going to take the kids fishing, but the water was too choppy, and then we were going to take the kids fishing, and we were all huddled around, shivering… we ended up going home and climbing in the hot tub.  Talk about vacation irony.  It was pitiful.  Well, the weather was – the hot tub is really very nice, except when my boys are spitting in it.  (Spitting results in immediate eviction.)  When we came back out, the campground was starting to fill up for the weekend.  It’s not as nice, with humans, here.  But our time is almost up, anyhow.

The visit with my aunt went.  I kind of found a commiserating spirit in my Aunt, when I was young.  Having her walk out six years ago did a real number on me.  Going back, now?  I really didn’t want to.  And she pretty much acted like nothing had happened, which sets wrong with me, to be honest.  Something *DID* happen, I just was never made privy to what I did.  Whatever, I guess…?

By the time you read this, it will be another Saturday.  (Toldja I was gonna wish you Shabbat Shalom!)  My cousin and his wife are going to be out to visit us at camp, because they’ll be watching the kids for us while we’re at CPL class.  I like my cousin real well – he actually works with my guy, and they’re friends.  But his wife… we aren’t cut of the same cloth.  At all.  I… am… not…  able to talk about it without sounding crappy.  She… parents, spouses, and LIVES completely differently than I do.  I’ll play nice.  We’ll grill burgers, have a fire, sit and talk and have a decent time, in the end.  But kindred spirits we are not.

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