This weekend was an especially entertaining one to say the least. I finally was able to make a trip down to the town of Patagonia, to see my favorite set of grandparents; Jim and Marilyn Coleman (sorry other grandparents, you just didn't make the cut...kidding). Anyway, let me give you a little visual of Patagonia. Imagine if David Lynch adapted a Louis L'Amour book, then you're kind of starting to get the picture. It just so happened that this weekend was the Fall Festival, and the town was full of tourists. We arrived with an old lady with a filled bladder, and 5 bags, 3 of which were virtually useless. After everything was settled, we said our 'Hellos', and got the party started, so to speak.
One of my favorite people in the world, Ms. Yanaba Paladin Coomer, my unofficial great aunt, was there as well. Her and I walked around the festival for about an hour, talking about all types of stuff. After paying 5 dollars for a terrible piece of pizza, $1.50 on a set of books about Henry James, and about a mile of walking in my shoes, we decided to head home and start dinner.
Now, let me remind you, Jim and Marilyn are some of the O.G's of the Southwest lifestyle, so their food wasn't exactly, "vegetarian friendly" to say the least. But hey, they worked around the limitation and made me some pretty freakin' good ravioli and potatoes. While they feasted on shrimp, we all listened to some French rock music, and talked. Not recently have I truly enjoyed the simplicity of life like I did that night.
At about 11:45, after watching Without A Paddle on Spike TV, I called it quits, and headed to the back room where we slept. A snoring and suppository seeking Grandmother awaited me. All throughout the night, she did the bathroom shuffle going back and forth trying to emit non-existent feces, and demanding me of supositorios, which once again, were non-existent at the time. To top it off, I'm very sick, and coughing and aching in my very unstable rock-hard cot. Fast forward to 3:30 AM, I snuck into the bed where Tom, my stepdad was supposed to be sleeping, but hey, I'm the sick one. He stumbles in, drunk as can be announcing, "Ok! I'm here!" He wakes up all 3 people occupying the room (Me, my mother, and Captain Suppository). We tell him to shut up and go to sleep, but for about 10 minutes, he fiddles with the lights, talks about nothing in particular, and falls onto the cot.
Fast forward again to 5 AM. It's a snoring contest, I can't fall back asleep.
Finally, the sun comes to my rescue and wakes up the heathens in the room. But alas, I must rise with the almost dead. I crawl into the main house and eat a delicious cinnamon roll, against my stomach's better judgment.
A couple hours later, it's time to say my goodbyes, and regretfully drive back to Phoenix. I always love going to Patagonia, no matter how..scary it may be.
Haha, my, my. There really is only one word to sum you up Joey and that's....well actually there's too many words, oh well im sure you know them all:) Well like I said before I should probably be doing my homework, but your blog just made my day. Ill definetley be reading this more often. Love ya lots:)
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