Day One: Many concrete statuary lots observed in southern Indiana and Kentucky (my personal fave: "The Concrete Lady" just outside Clarksville, IN); numerous bathroom stops as we are travelling with 5 kids; we are travelling in two cars, using "talkabouts" to point out sights of interest, harass each other with stupid jokes, and in the case of my 13-year-old nephew, mercilessly beg his mother to stop at one of the numerous fireworks stands we are passing. Arrive at the hotel hot and tired; they messed up the reservation so we are given an extra room, which goes to my 13 and 11 year old nephews, who immediately feel like rock stars and go off to loll in undisturbed Holiday Inn luxury. We eat dinner in the "Lords of London" restaurant attached to the hotel, done in 1970's-era pseudo olde-English style, which prompts a merciless round of dinner table jokes, most of which go right over the head of our server. This is probably a good thing. I end up sharing a bed with my 2-year-old niece, who like her auntie is a nightowl. We sing a few songs, talk about who we'll be seeing at the cabin the next day, and finally fall asleep.
Earlier in the evening, I was cornered by my bro-in-law telling me how miserable he is, my sister won't talk to him, and through tears, begging me to talk to her about it. I told him I wasn't sure what I could do and that I think he should suggest they get counseling if things are so bad...and of course I already knew this because my sister has been telling me how miserable SHE is. Blah.
Day Two: I am the first one up and decide to order breakfast poolside...I am thrilled to hear these words: "Potatoes or grits?". Give.me.the.grits. Yum. As I eat I marvel at the hotel's ugly and unrelentingly mauve decor; then take a quick swim and go back upstairs to help get the kids repacked and ready to go. One of the rock-star boys has been up sick all night, probably due to the copious amounts of beef jerky and Mountain Dew he consumed the previous day. Understandably, no one wants to sit next to him in the car. Our drive through Kentucky and Tennessee is mapped out along old state highways and we see some gorgeous rural sights - two-lane highway most of the day. We eat lunch in a roadside diner that has been in operation since the 1920's; the food is excellent and the cook entertains/horrifies my sister's kids by taking out his glass eye. Delightful! Just outside of one small farming community we come upon the local volunteer fire department arriving at the scene of a house fire. There are six cars pulled up in the yard and the men are taking their hoses and equipment out of car trunks -- We stop to see if we can help and my bro-in-law, two oldest nephews and I end up helping run some hose down to a retention pond.
We arrive at the state park and meander through about 3 miles of single lane road to the cabins. I am stunned. The cabins are beautiful, handmade by the CCC in the 1930's and 40's - stone and timber. The interiors have raw wood panelling, stone fireplaces and slate floors. Really beautiful.
Several aunts and uncles are already there and we are greeted warmly. My aunt Irene, widow of my uncle Robert walks over and grabs my arm and tells me Robert listened "over and over again" to a tape I sent him a few years ago. (At the time I was in a country band and we recorded a bunch of old Carter family stuff and standards) As she tells me this we both well up and end up hugging for a long time. I'm glad she came and glad she's talking about him because she shut down pretty tightly right after he died and that scared me.
Day Three: My aunt B. comes out for a while. She is staying about a half-hour away with at my uncle's house. He has suffered a series of strokes and there's a lot of discussion as to whether he'll be able to come over for a few hours later in the week. Aunt B. is the one who "scandalized" the family and I am eager to talk to her privately sometime later in the week. She has the most piercing, clear blue eyes I have ever seen.
My sis, nieces and I walk the half-mile back to the stone swimming pool and float and chat as the stars come out over our heads. My oldest niece has just broken up with her boyfriend and is somewhat miserable but we encourage her as best we can and then start splashing water at each other and doing stupid dives into much-too-shallow-water.
The amount of food on the dinner table that night is insane. We are taking turns having meals at all the cabins and tonight we are at my mom's. There are lots of fresh vegetables from my cousin's farm and an equal amount of mayonnaise-based "salads". Heavy on the meat, which is heavy on the fat. Pies. Cobblers. Cakes. I eat so much I actually feel sick. Life is good.
Later that night we share a few bottles of homemade wine and all get so wasted we can barely stagger back to our cabins. Mystery brother and I decide to try a shortcut and we run into a family of skunks right outside our cabin. Neither of us knows what to do to scare them off without making them spray so we sit on a stump and talk until they shuffle off. This is the first of what will be nightly visits from the local skunk and raccoon families. (My nephew named one of the raccoons "Tenacious C" because nothing we did scared the little fucker off, which meant we had to clean up strewn garbage every morning.)
We are spread out among six cabins...about a half-mile walk from the first to the last. I will probably spare you the day-by-day details on the rest of the week...but I will do separate entries on side trips I took and conversations/observations. My mom's siblings are all getting fairly old and I think some of them probably figured this was the last time they would all be together, so there was a lot of late-night talking and a sense of urgency to much of it.