Well look at you, loyal reader! You still check in, even though I have been kidnapped from the land of the Internet and placed smack dab into the world of only TiVo! But I can pause my TV, so I win...
Anyway, I can't possibly tell you what I've been doing for the past month or so (except Lost is on hiatus so I can speak to other people on Wednesdays now), so I thought I'd tell you a wee lil' story to hold you over.
And to those of you who read this whom I didn't know read this, welcome.
So as I said a while back, Dave, Shelby and I were to go scout this new cave for camp. [Scout: to go into a space or experience an activity firsthand, to be able to make a decision as to whether it is viable to take fat, spoiled 10-year-olds through it without them most likely killing themselves.] Well we went, searched around the woods for 45 minutes til we found the "40-foot climbable pit" that the description had mentioned. And this pit had HUGE IRON BARS ACROSS IT, signaling that maybe they don't want us going in there. It was over 70 outside and the three of us were sweating like stuck pigs, anxious to get into the cave so we could cool down (they are a constant 53 degrees in VA). We seriously considered it anyway, but they are building a new school right through the woods and them construction men in their helmets were staring at us in our helmets and chances are they would win in a fight. So we gave up, but did some very serious detective work and found out the owner of the cave (the county itself) and, three weeks later, go permission to go into said cave! Go us!
So last Thursday we once again loaded ourselves and our gear into their little green wagon and headed back down to the cave. To quote Starship, "Nothin's gonna stop us now....!" We got into our regalia and walked the 1/2 mile to the cave entrance. Mind you, this time it was 33 out and we were anxious to get in, just to warm up. Funny how perspective changes. The balmy nature of 53 degrees. So we set up the rope and Shelby climbs under the bars to head into the pit (two entrances inside the pit itself) when we see an old man walking through the woods from the school site toward us. "This is private property here," he says in his Shenandoah drawl. We tell him we have permission, and who gave it to us. We feel smug. Score point for us. "Oh...well...it's prolly not such a good i-dea to go in that there cave today," he tells us while scratching his head. We ask why. "Well...um...we're blasting over there today, and fer the next two weeks er so, so it's not really a good i-dea."
I'm sorry, did you just say blasting?
As in dynamite?
As in we are about to go into a cave next to or even under the spaces in which you are planning on dropping some TNT and, to use the venacular, blowing some shit up?
Right ok, sounds good.
So that hampered that plan just a lil'.
We still went into the pit, but only went about 50-100 feet into a 1,000 foot cave, being that's closer to where they were "fixing to do some blasting."
So to the cave #2 foiled...again.
Back in January.
Hopefully that trip will be fun, but not DYNO-MITE!
Ok that was bad, forgive me i've been rusty.
Viva La Vie Bohme, etc etc.
Took my little sister to get her Christmas tree/Hanukkah bush last week. Yeah you want that story don't cha.
