Five Nights At Family’s
I have written about my time in Wisconsin last month, namely enjoying the wonders and joys of the Wisconsin State Fair. But there was more going on! Much more!
Like, for example, my dad finally getting his hands on a proper Commercial Display Refrigerator! Hooray!
Which, apparently, was one of his life-long goals? I guess?
I mean, more power to him, but I admit that I do not ever recall sitting out in the gazebo with him watching the sunset and hearing him sagely tell me, “You know, son, I have been a very successful IP lawyer for decades, I have hiked to the top of Mt. Kilimanjaro, and I have a loving and devoted family all around me, but one of my greatest hopes as a young boy growing up remains unfulfilled: to one day own a Commercial Display Refrigerator. That magical milestone eludes me, still.”
Then again, I’m only visiting a couple of times a year, so I probably just missed those moments.
In any case, the overall trip was about five days or so, and packed with good times.
Besides the State Fair, one high point was that I was able to attend the famed Plotecher Family Bash for the first time in what feels like forever.
A lot of families do this, and in our case, we have been gathering as a clan for something like 40 years. Up until just a few years ago, this was always hosted at my Uncle Jim’s and Aunt Sandy’s place: a perfect spot, as it had a big house, a huge yard, big garage for the folding tables covered in highly-caloric food, an indoor pool, and, of course, the goat pen. And for the latter I mean a place where they kept their goat, not a pen used by a goat, just to be clear.
Recently, however, my sister has taken over hosting duties, as her place has a lot of the same attributes: a big house, big garage for all of the food and drinks, a pool (outdoor, but still heated), a huge yard, and even a full basement loaded games like a pool table, foosball, darts, shuffleboard, and a couple of video game cabinets that house like 45 different arcade games. Yes, that still does not make up for the absence of a goat pen, but still, we must sally forth.
The average attendance is around 60 people, which has been surprisingly consistent over the decades. Naturally, a lot of the people from the early days are not able to attend. Like me, they may have moved out of state and can’t make it back easily. Or, they might be around but are spending the day with their spouse’s family under the delusion that anyone else could be possibly more entertaining than the Plotechers. Or, maybe they are currently operating deep undercover in Tierra del Fuego searching for the lost artifact “The Key to Atlantis.” Who can say?
That said, thanks to my cousin's own growing families, there is always a new influx of talent into the pool. …Literally.
Given that my sister lives next door to my parents, my family and I headed over early to help out. Mom and May were helping by getting the food ready, while Gracie and I jumped into the aforementioned pool to make sure the water was warm, the floatables were, uh, floating, and just to confirm that the pool was prepped well enough so that everything would go… ahem… swimmingly.
Heh.
The bash itself was fun, filled with tasty food, refreshing beverages, and even some high-brow conversation with my cousins Annie and Maggie about the intricacies of various board games. The weather started out pretty good, but then a series of storm clouds rolled in, and while at first I thought that they would just miss us, the winds shifted and the rain came.
Worse yet for the pool-goers, lighting was a-flashing, so we had to have everyone get out of the pool. Skip forward about an hour later, and it was still raining, but we hadn’t seen any lighting for a while. So, my cousin Mike loudly declared that it was all good for the kids to go back in the pool. I do not believe that he conducted any risk assessments or held any parental group discussions prior to this announcement, but eh, what’s the worst that could happen? I mean, sure, my parents house, a mere hundred yards away or so, has been struck by lightning – multiple times – but I’m sure that it’s perfectly safe.
Another highlight of the bash was watching my nephew, RJ, take up the mantle of being first in the dessert line. That was the role I ruled for almost 40 years, but now my joints snap if I’m moving faster than one mile every three weeks, so I was immensely proud to see him pick up the torch of getting first dibs on the desserts. This, my friends, is why I have faith in the younger generations.
But the bash wasn’t the only family+food combo going on that trip!
Our last night there, May and I were invited to come along with my parents and some family members to a “Farm to Table” dinner. This is where they take the food fresh from the farm and cook it right up then serve it to you. Mind you, this is only for vegetables; perhaps there is a “Farm to Table” steak version out there somewhere, but I feel like that might be a bit more, uh, messy. Then again, Douglas Adams wrote about this in “The Restaurant at the End of the Universe,” so I like to think that the technology is on its way.
Before the meal, they give a little tour around the “farm” which, to the untrained eye, just looks like a large garden. But, the variety of food that they have there is pretty amazing. They also are able to get by without using pesticides by including plants that attract insects that, in turn, eat the insects that would damage the crops. Sort of like “A Bug’s Life” circle-of-life approach, where the ladybugs are stalking down and pouncing on the aphids, focusing the elderly and infirmed ones,
Pretty sure there was a Disney “True Life Adventures” about this.
The dinner itself consists of 4 plates plus a dessert. Each serving comes with its own sample of beer and wine, complete with spokespeople for the alcoholic spirits that give a 5 minute oration about what you are drinking. They sounded very knowledgeable, but given that I have never been a fan of beer or wine, it was all kinda lost on me…
THEM: “And with this wine, you can tell it is far more fruity, with hints of strawberry, apple, and cherry blossoms mixed with that oaken flavor of the barrels that have been carefully aged in a hermetically-sealed cellar. Wouldn’t you agree, sir?”
ME: “Uh, kinda tastes kind of like the stuff used to color Easter eggs.”
I don’t get invited to many wine-tasting events.
Oh well. At least the drinks looked pretty cool in the setting sun.
I will state for the record that there was a dessert drink, though, that blew my mind: The Java Chatta. Like, a mix of some kind of moonshine, chatta, and cinnamon. It was so good that I actually sought the staff member that had made it to ask for the recipe, which I promptly lost. Regardless, it was well worth the price of entry! True, the price of entry for me was zero, given that my ticket was covered by my parents' generosity, but still!
Overall, the food itself was really good, and because they were all the proper portion size, it was perfectly measured so that you were full by the end of the meal.
The next day we had our trip home, and I’ll just note here that I noticed, unsurprisingly, that this time there was no wait in the airport security line. May, Gracie, and I just waltzed through like a classic walk cycle. But of course this was the case, because we were like an hour early, and therefore not in any kind of a rush.
I like to think of it as the Security Line Situationship: The speed of a security line is in inverse proportion to the rush you are in.