The only thing Robbie really wanted to eat during their visit was Leal’s cranberry spice bread. Unfortunately, for Robbie, I had already eaten most of it, because it was so good. He was not pleased in the way that only two-year-olds and drama queens show displeasure. He adamantly refused to eat anything else. His favorite way to show displeasure was throwing himself, face first onto the floor. I had an eight-year-old nephew, twenty years ago, who would do the same thing and fall asleep face-down on the carpet. I just love kids who put themselves in time out.
Rachel’s and Scott’s families arrived the day after Bill’s group got here. It had been many years since Rachel and Scott had contact with Bill or his children. Jay and Albert, nephews from Texas, joined us while Bill, Ingrid, and Robbie visited. Everyone, kids and grandkids, really enjoyed Uncle Bill, with his zany humor and love of board games. His grandson Robbie seems to concur with these opinions of Bill.
Meanwhile, Larry noticed that the ground by our side steps was getting very mushy, and we weren’t having any precipitation to cause this. Upon closer inspection, he found that our septic system had been overwhelmed. We couldn’t get Roto Rooter until the next day, so the rest of the day we imposed the rule, “If it’s yellow, let it mellow. If it’s brown, flush it down.” Mercifully, Bill’s party, which had been staying at one of the Charest’s cabins, said their goodbyes and headed homeward.
I decided that we needed more septic system space, even if our guests were willing to sleep stacked like cordwood on our floors. Mamie offered to let Albert and Jay use her garage apartment, but we were expecting at least seven more toilet flushers and shower takers as overnight guests – not to mention the eight to twenty neighbors who had been invited to stop by for our New Year’s Eve celebration. Coker Creek Village came to the rescue with the use of their Creekside Cabin. Leal, the office manager at the village, turned out to be, not only Robbie’s favorite food provider, but also our angel of “no room at the inn” mercy.
While this crisis was being handled, Albert discovered that all the people using Richard’s WWII Museum computer to check emails and such had reactivated a virus that Richard thought had been cleared off his computer. New Year’s Eve morning was spent having our septic tank pumped in preparation for even more flushes and showers than we were already having our tank handle, and Larry and Albert debugging Richard’s work station.
The big “do” was that night. Ginette and her kids were due at two, and Camille was set to arrive at four. Neither of their groups arrived before dark. It seems that my family leaves wherever they are at whatever time they’re due at their next destination, no matter how many miles there are to the next stop. None of them arrived before dark. I wasn’t even surprised this time.