MIL and I went to the South Haven Blueberry Fest on Saturday. For those who don't know crap about me, I do not like being in crowds, and South Haven + Blueberry Fest = massive crowds. For the sake of scoring valuable points with my MIL, I agreed to go.
When we left at 9 in the morning, we noted that it "appeared a little dark" to our West. Guess where South Haven is? Yup. Before we had driven 10 miles, we were getting sprinkles on the windshield. We laughed and optimistically convinced one another that the sprinkles would clear before we got to South Haven.
72 miles later, and 2.5 miles from our destination, all Hell broke loose. It was raining so hard, it was hard to see where the heck we were going. We made it, and it seemed like maybe it was letting up a bit. We parked the car about 2 blocks from the main drag where all the action was going on, grabbed the umbrella, and started hoofing it. Within 20 minutes, it was POURING again. We ducked into a bakery, MIL's favorite venue, and bought several rolls. The place was packed, but we got served within 10 minutes. We each ate a roll under the awning outside of the bakery, waiting for the rain to let up. I put the remaining rolls in my purse in an attempt to keep them dry.
MIL's umbrella is so huge, it was not practical among the tents (which, due to the rain, had closed their flaps and or covered their merchandise with tarps), so I ended up giving up and closing it. Before long, we were both soaked to the skin. We both wore sandals, and we were squishing as we walked. MIL suggested we drop off the merchandise we had purchased thus far in the car. I told her we could sit in car and warm up a bit, which she said sounded like a good idea.
She unlocked the car, and popped the trunk. I ditched the umbrella and our merchandise, unloaded the rolls from my purse, shut the trunk, and headed to the passenger side to get in. MIL yells, "WAIT!" She then slams the door she had open and locks the car. I gave her a "WTF?" look, and she expounds, "I don't want to get the seats wet!" I shit you not. So we are standing there, getting more soaked, if that is possible. The water in the street is already over the tops of my feet, and she doesn't want to get her seats wet?
I looked around at all the crazy people enduring the downpour, then realized I WAS one of those crazy people. It finally got so bad, we ducked into a shop doorway, backs to the wind-driven rain. MIL took one look at me--and busted out laughing. I thought she was going to pee herself. My hair was matted to my head, and I had rivulets of rain running down my face and dripping off my chin(s). She was laughing so hard, I thought she was crying, but it was hard to tell, as she had water dripping of her eyebrows and nose.
A kind sales lady offered us a paper towel each, smiling apologetically for not offering more. (We couldn't enter the door, as it was blocked by a display table. I told MIL she could probably get in if she got on her hands and knees and sucked in real hard...) We watched as many people strolled by in rain gear. MIL exclaimed, "hey, I have that rain gear at home we could have worn...."
We must have walked 10 miles and went into every shop. We looked at a lot of great stuff we couldn't afford. We ate lunch in a packed restaurant, where the only seats available were at a very small table RIGHT by entry door and in front of the big window. I almost blew ice tea out my nose when the first batch of people pressed their faces against the glass window right where we were sitting to see how packed it was inside. I honestly felt like a zoo animal on display. It was hilarious. I dared MIL to make a face at one of them, but she chickened out.
After our bellies were full, we walked another 10 miles and tried to find shops and booths we HADN'T been in already. The weather made the arthritis in my hips and knee flair up, and I took it as long as I could before letting MIL know that I needed to take one of my arthritis pills. Of course, we weren't anywhere near a place that sold water, so we hoofed it down to the shops along the riverwalk where they sell a lot of junk food and beverages. I got us two waters, and I took my painpill and we rested a bit. It was then we realized that we had come downhill, which meant we had to hoof it UPhill to get back to the car. UGH!
We had to stop 3 times on the way up to rest. I was freakin' scared that MIL was going to have a coronary right there. We debated on asking a hulking muscle-bound body builder how much he would charge to carry us the rest of the way up the hill...
We made it, though. By this time, it was sunny and beautiful out. We air dried in no time, and things were looking up. We decided to leave around 3pm, as we still had a 72 mile drive home. As we headed East, MIL looked in her rear-view mirror and exclaimed, "wow, it sure is getting dark back there..."
We were surrounded by ominous clouds three quarters of the drive home. We eventually had to turn south, and that is when Hell-Breaks-Loose Volume II took place. Less than 20 miles from home, those dark clouds from the West slammed into us with gale-force wind intensity. MIL had to pull over as we watched the rain coming in side-ways sheets across the pavement. Trees looked like they were going to snap in two. It eventually passed, and we got back on the road. Five minutes later, Hell-Breaks-Loose Volume III erupted. It began to hail dime-sized frozen nuggets. It sounded like we were being pelted with rocks. Again, MIL had to pull over.
We made it home safely, but frayed around the edges. We were both exhausted. I went to bed early that night. MIL kept complaining about acid reflux, and later that evening, she said her heart kept fluttering...More on that in the next post. I have to get back to homework.