The Estes
"Golden" Family Reunion
Monday (continued)
"More like Tennessee Ernie Ford," he replies,
someone who can sing anything, from pretty gospel songs to fun
songs.
Debbie doesn't hesitate to say landscape architect
-- residential or business, she doesn't care -- or renovate old
houses.
Allison hasn't decided, and Jennifer quickly states
"an EMT!" for herself.
When I ask Mom, she answers faster than anyone --
"Did it" -- and smiles confidently. A good wife and mother.
I glance over at the other table, and notice they're
demonstrating to each other their signatures on their grocery bag
placemats. Rita comments that Wayne's signature looks a lot like
hers at the bank... and she looks away casually (Wayne agrees and
comments that in some states, that's against the law).
Back to the parking lot, where we squint in the
bright sun (despite that dark cloud that keeps hovering just to the
side and threatens a rainshower) and decide our next move -- shopping
in town? Steven remarks that this is the kind of lunch where you
go back to your hotel room afterward, and we drop him, Mom and Dad (who
both want some rest time -- Dad spends the time sitting on the porch
and looking at the trees, and Mom, who later said that wasn't doing it
for her, takes a nap) off at the lodge on the way back into town.
We decide to meet back at the van and car at 3:30, which should give us
time to get ready for the big family photo, and we go off in different
directions.
I check out the Christmas Tree shop for the perfect
ornament to commemorate the trip, and consider a small carved black
bear standing on top of a painted pine cone (it reminds me of the decor
of our room -- very Twin Peaksy, light wood panelling and rustic "tree"
shaped lamps and things, with star-patterned country quilts), which
I'll probably buy tomorrow. (I want to wait, in case I see a
better, more officially marked "Highlands" ornament.)
Not much time left, I visit a fun bath store, which features silly
soaps as seen in Athens shops and the lodge's breakfast room ("Wash
Your Sins Away" soap), and a fave "Natural Habitat" handsoap I saw that
morning at Call of the Wild (a bottle with Neutrogena-type liquid soap
and a terrarium-style presentation in the bottle with rocks, plastic
greens and a plastic creature, my favorite being the turtles or snakes).
Wayne's crew catches up with me as I'm leaving the
soap store, and Allison is carrying a bag containing a beanie owl,
wearing a mortarboard, for the soon-to-be-graduating-from-high-school
Natalie. As we're wandering back inside the soap store (which is
playing the O Brother, Where Art Thou
soundtrack), Wayne's talking with
Allison, and says, sighing, "Rita, she won't give in." Allison
shakes her head firmly. "If we get Natalie that card, will you be
nice for the picture?" Allison nods her head firmly, with a
slight smile. So, on our way back to the lodge, we stop by some
shop where apparently Allison saw the perfect graduation card for
Natalie and wanted her to have it, and Wayne runs in to get it.
A short while later, back at the cottage, we gather
at the pavilion, eyeing the increasingly overcast sky (which is good
natural filter for photography, as long as it doesn't actually, y'know,
rain) and Wayne returns with the photographer, Mike Wilson, a nice,
young, patient guy with a camera. They decide the lake would be a
nice background, so they set two of the pavilion chairs together for
Mom and Dad to sit in, and gather the kids and kids' kids around
them. A few shots of that, then a reverse with the pavilion
behind us. I request one silly picture, with everyone making
faces... Silence. Or relaxed? The photographer says
we looked pretty relaxed in all of them, but okay, and he takes a
couple of us in more relaxed poses.
Then comes the other pictures -- the individual
families and different groups. Wayne takes us kids and kids' kids
down to the stream behind the pavilion for a nice nature picture on the
mossy rocks and running stream, and it seems to inspire even more
tension than just getting your picture taken -- slippery rocks,
shifting people around, more slippery rocks. Wayne's under the
insane delusion (as far as Jennifer's concerned) of Jennifer and
Allison kneeling on the wet rocks in front of us, but eventually she
semi-kneels and the rest of us find rocks to stand on, and snap, snap,
we're done with that. Larry's family is all ready back up the
hill to the pavilion, and Wayne would like to try their family picture
on the rocks in the stream. Shockingly, he manages to get Allison
and Jennifer back on the rocks -- standing this time -- for the group
photo, and we're back to the pavilion.
Then some nice pictures by the pavilion fireplace,
and the shoot is over -- just as gloppy raindrops begin to hit.
Perfect timing!
For the next couple hours, the pavilion is our
hang-out shelter during the rain. (It's really good to be in the
Highlands in the off-season -- we get our own private pavilion!) (And
it's a good storm, tossing out some thunder rolling off the
mountains.) Allison and Jennifer give Natalie her graduation owl,
which really surprises her, and then there's more checker games and
shooting the breeze. Rita tries to get some casual pictures of
the chatting groups (all the guys are talking together, all the nieces
are around the checkerboard, and me, Mom, Debbie and Rita are at our
own table), and the flash inspires Jennifer to cry, "HEY! Who's
flashing?!!!" which makes Wayne and Rita laugh.
As it gets later and the rain keeps falling, we
start to feel chilly and damp and a bit trapped. "If only we had
a place to build a fire..." remarks Debbie as we look at the pavilion
fireplace that we previously only noticed for picture background.
Hey! A functional prop! However, while we're surrounded by
lots and lots of wood, we're a little shy on DRY wood. There are
a few charred stumps of wood in the fireplace, a few split logs next
it, and Wayne and Debbie scrounge around for bits of dry twigs and
leaves that were on the dry pavilion floor. And there is a box of
fireplace matches! Perfect!
Except the striking part of the match box is worn
down to useless smoothness, and the matches won't strike on anything
else -- "They're not strike anywhere matches," Wayne tells Dad, and Dad
agrees. (Wayne then tells us about the time he and Rita tried to
demonstrate to Jennifer how dangerous matches were, and they went
outside with matches that weren't strike anywhere, and it took them
forever to get a flame going.)
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