Sunday, September 23, 2012

Freddie's Beach

We used to take the boys to a place called Freddie's Beach in Delhi Iowa for vacation. It was not a good fishing spot but all in all we were well entertained.

When you plan a vacation ahead of time the weather is not always ideal when the time comes. You go and make the best of it.

Freddie's Beach had a trampoline with a timer for each kid's turn. It had a rec room with video games and an old guy named Freddie who would pay kids with a quarter to rake the beach. They made many friends.

The boys loved it. They would play on the beach and we would take the boat and fish nearby checking on them periodically. This particular time a storm moved in quickly and we were caught in a downpour. By the time we got the boys and were back in the cabin we were drenched as was everything we had with us.

After using what towels were left to dry off we started in on the clean clothing to finish up. Then to dry everything we hung it up all over the cabin. That night it was still sprinkling but we went out to the small fire pit anyway. Steve, being the Boy Scout he is impressed us by making a fire with wet everything. It's funny because that's what I remember most about the vacation was the things that went wrong and you laugh later.

My getting lost with the boat trailer is still not something we are able to laugh at. When we arrive to our cabin initially there is no boat ramp, so I drive around to another resort and dock Steve in with the boat which he takes by water back to the cabin. I'm not proficient in trailer backing upping. Well, I'm okay but there is something wrong with every trailer I try to back up. It never ever goes straight even though I don't turn the wheel. As I'm driving back I miss my turn and after a mile or so of going too far I turn into another resort to turn around. But it's a dead end and I have to back up to get out. But it won't go where I want. I want to get out of the truck and go back there and lift (or kick) the back end of the trailer like it is a little wagon but of course I can't. So I start crying and hitting the steering wheel instead. After 82 1" back and forths I get out and start back down the highway praying I find my turn.

In the meantime, Steve is back at the cabin pacing and trying not to picture me in an accident. He finally gives up and jogs from our resort, to the highway, to the other resort with the boat ramp and back again. When I pull up in tears with a super duper headache he is sitting on a picnic table a sweaty mess. Not the ideal way to start your vacation.

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