Thursday, August 4, 2011

I'm Only A Month Late!

Better late than never.  No, I’m not talking about my period.  I’m finally getting around to posting about my 4th of July weekend.  We drove up to Grand Teton National Park just past Jackson Hole, Wyoming.  I had never been to this park before but was pretty excited.  It sounded so dignified, noble and majestic.  The Grand Teton!  I expressed this thought to E2 who was driving. 

He gave me the side eye glance and said “It was named by French trappers”.  

Me: “Oh really?  That’s cool.”

Now he fully turns his head to look at me.

“Dawn, you know some French.  Think about it.”

Me: “I know grand means big but I don’t think I ever learned teton.”

E2: *sigh* “Tit.  It means Big Tit.”

Me: “Seriously?  They named a mountain after a boob?  How long were they in the wilderness for?  They must have been really hard up.  Heh.  Get it?  Hard up?”

E2: …….


By the time we made it to the park, it was late and too dark to see anything.  But the next morning, with the wildflowers and the beaming sun and the blue sky and fresh air, I am happy to report it was the grandest tit I’ve ever seen.


Magnificent, isn't it?


I decided to start the weekend off with a lovely golden tan

Ya know, or not.

E2 spent quite a lot of time playing with his camera, capturing the beauty and wildlife around us.


I loitered around waiting for the opium in the flowers to take effect, knocking E2 unconscious and allowing me all the time I wanted to take advantage of his comatose, sexy self.  I waited quite awhile since those flowers turned out to not be poppies and this wasn't the Wizard of Oz.  Ah well.  The best laid plans and all that.

I was quickly distracted from my plans of gropery by Bullwinkle hanging out in the shrubbery.

"Eff off assholes."
We also saw the makings of my favorite kind of burger.

It looks monumentally more appetizing on a toasted bun with smoked Gouda.

And finally, the highlight of the whole weekend.  This sweet little duo made their way through our campsite a couple of times each day we stayed there.  They were unimpressed with us and did their very best to ignore our existence.

Get off my ass Ma!  I've totally got this.

All together now...AWWWWWWW!

It was a fantastic weekend and I was glad I went, despite the fact it was camping...again.  

One huge 4th of July weekend bonus…no fireworks.  Didn’t have to endure the neighbors setting them off at all hours of the night.  No worrying if the little maggots next door trying to pass themselves off as children were going to toss their still-lit sparkers over the fence into the garden.  No listening to the neighborhood dogs howling their displeasure.  I was happy to have missed all the festivities.   

Does this make me unpatriotic?  Does the fact that had I been there, I would have sat on the front porch in my camping chair and thrown empty bottles of gin while screaming obscenities at the children who ventured too close to the lawn make me a bad American?  Being half Canadian do I even care?

Meh.  I'm too tired for this.  I still have to pack for this weekend.  We're leaving tomorrow morning to head up to the Uintas.  Guess why.  Uh huh.  More camping.

 God Save The Queen!