beancounters: Cabin life: a study in poor taste

Once a year, my husband and his siblings rent a large but astonishingly unattractive cabin at Tahoe for a week. We haul in a lot of food, charcoal briquettes and booze, and decorate the inside and out with wet beach towels and childrens' shoes.

Day 1: This is my dog Daisy’s first trip to the cabin. Most of the family hasn't met her before. Boy, did people fawn over her! Daisy always sits on one particular couch, central to the action, in line of sight to the kitchen and both doors. Throughout the day, nearly everyone has taken a turn at her side, scurtching her ears or belly. No fighting over her so far; there must be a sign-up sheet floating around here.

Day 2: First day at Meeks Bay. Sat too long in the sun. Due to less than scrupulous application of the sunscreen, I have an unsightly burn on one leg, the approximate shape of Brazil. My coworkers are used to my returning from Tahoe with life-threatening burns. This one wasn’t bad at all, lifeforce-wise. Besides, I can hide it.

Birthday party! My niece turned nine this week. Major photo op for the family. It looked like she was in front of a press corps, not a group of happy birthday-wishers. Well, we all have photo archiving on our minds due to a new-found interest in gene/a/logy. You can’t blame us.

OMG. One of my relatives came rushing over to me during the party. She was sitting in the wrong place at the wrong time, happened to see up the very short skirt of another female relative, and saw that she was not wearing underwear. Gaaah! We were both seized with hysterical laughter, jamming dishtowels into our mouths to keep from braying. Hmm, think that pic would make it into the photo archives??

The kids discovered this card deck in a sidetable drawer. We’ve all had special fun playing Go Fish with it, though it seems dreadfully wrong, even by our low standards of anti-Dubya humor.