Vacation: Days First Through Last

My intention was to write about all the adventures the Cynical family had during our summer vacation. Perhaps, I thought, I can use the trip for the next 112 posts like my pal Dr. Grumpy did, and I won't have to draw from my rapidly dwindling supply of cop stories. Sadly, it didn't work out that way.

The drive itself was uneventful. Myself, Mrs. Cynical, and our three dogs merrily made our way for many hours, finally reaching our destination without incident. As soon as we rolled into the "resort", I felt the first pangs of doubt rising in my craw. While the maps and photos of the place would lead one to believe it was a sprawling acreage, it was not. Indeed, the cabins were very close together, and the entire property was microscopic.

As we approached our assigned cabin, it was clear that it also was much smaller than we had anticipated. Immediately inside the door was a dining table, adjacent to a sitting area with two chairs and a tiny kitchen with a dorm fridge. In the bedroom, the bed was pushed against walls on three sides. The only way for the person sleeping on the wall side to get over there was to crawl across the bed from the non-wall side. This was particularly annoying for the person sleeping on the non-wall side of the bed (me).

Upon closer inspection, the place was downright filthy. One night, Mrs. Cynical tried to use the stove and the grease and other crap around the burner caught on fire. Fortunately, the smoke alarms didn't work:

The oven and oven door were unspeakable:

The shower floor:

The "plumbing" next to the toilet:

The bathroom sink:

The living room lamp shade:

The bedroom fan:

The living room ceiling:

As an added treat, I stepped on a large bolt that had been left on the carpet for no apparent reason, and when I went to open the curtains, I grabbed onto a fishing lure - complete with treble hook - that was inexplicably stuck there. Fortunately, it didn't severely puncture my hand.

Because we were there mainly for the dogs, we took them down to the "beach". I thought it was nice that the management allowed dogs off leash on their "beach", but then realized it was probably because no human being would use it. Near the shore was a thick layer of floating green algae. On shore were the remnants of an apparent recent hurricane - rotting reeds, remains of old fishing gear, and other detritus. The dogs didn't seem to mind, though, and they did get some swimming and fetching time in the lake.

In the evening, we had satellite TV that was about 98% shopping channels, and free wi-fi, which went out the first night and never came back on.

When I finally went to the office, there was no one there. A sign was posted, saying they'd left for a while and please write down any message. So, I left a note that we were leaving. I put the bolt I'd stepped on and fishing lure I'd grabbed onto on the counter along with my note, and we packed up the truck and left.

On the way back, we were able to find this very nice park and spent some time there. I took this photo of Mrs. Cynical and the dogs. But because I forgot my tripod at home, I wasn't able to get in the shot. You ain't missing nothing, believe me:

And that, folks, was my vacation.