On August 2, 1876, James Butler "Wild Bill" Hickok was shot from behind during a poker game in a saloon in Deadwood, South Dakota (known as Dakota Territory at the time) by one Mr. Jack McCall, who had (as the story goes) lost a lot of money to the notorious gambler and gunslinger in another poker game a few weeks prior. Wild Bill made it a rule to never sit with his back to the door, but at this particular juncture, it was the only seat open and no one would switch. That turned out to be a fatal decision for the infamous Wild Bill, and the hand he was holding -- two black aces and two black eights (the exact identity of the fifth card is lost to irrelevance) -- has since been known as the Dead Man's Hand.
Since I grew up going to visit the Black Hills, including Deadwood, just about every summer as a kid, I've known this story like the back of my hand since as long as I can remember. I've been to the No. 10 Saloon in Deadwood (which claimed to be at or close to the location of the original saloon) many, many times, and sat in the spot where Wild Bill supposedly sat when he was killed, or maybe it wasn't, but it could've been. They used to put on a re-enactment called The Trial of Jack McCall that started with the (fake, of course) shooting of Wild Bill and then Jack McCall running away down the street and being captured by cowboys on horseback and being brought to the local jail and then put on trial. One year we went and my Dad got called to be one of the witnesses. I don't know, it was one of those things that bored the crap out of me as a kid but my Mom thought it was a huge deal that she got my Dad to be one of the tourists that got called to be a witness without him knowing ahead of time (basically I think you just got pulled up on stage to be heckled) and even after he got called up there, as a kid it still bored the crap out of me and I didn't get why it was such a big deal and mostly when I was a kid what I really liked about Deadwood was that there were actual real live horses going up and down the streets all the time, pulling replica stagecoaches and wagons and some standing on corners that you could even pet or pay to sit on and have your picture taken, although I was always confused about why they had people dressed up like native Americans standing next to horses who were tacked up in western saddles.
My Dad liked the Old West and Wild Bill Hickok and Calamity Jane and Annie Oakley and all those guys, and the Black Hills and Deadwood and all of that. I'd like to think he'd be pleased as punch to know that he died on the same day that Wild Bill Hickok died. 148 years later. I know I think it's kinda cool.
So, yeah. I survived another August 2nd. Not really knowing what to expect, I woke up crying and had a couple of moments throughout the day, not to mention that now-familiar feeling that just up and smacks you upside the head out of nowhere many times in the weeks leading up to that date. But all in all it wasn't as scary as last year's August 2nd was, I think because it wasn't the first one I'd been through so I knew to expect the unexpected and to just kinda go with whatever I felt and to try not to be a biatch to everyone. Actually, I guess I avoided everyone expect my hubby, and that wasn't an accident. We were camping all weekend. OK, let me rephrase that; we were at a Christian music festival all weekend, staying in the camper (which is different than camping) so really the only person I was around who I knew was my hubby, anyway, which was fine by me.
We had a great time! Mostly. We left on Friday and it was raining. When we got there, it had stopped. It took two tries to set up the camper because the campsite was so uneven. We pulled the camper in one way and had it pretty much leveled, but then the hubby decided it'd be easier to level it if we pulled it in the other way, so we un-did everything and set it up again. Which wasn't so bad, it was just a primitive site without hook-ups and we work well together at getting the camper set up (well, I think we do, anyway) But then I got sick, because I hadn't eaten anything except a banana all morning and it was hot and I was ignoring all the signals my body was putting out that it needed something to eat and IDK, I donated 2 units of red blood cells on Monday and haven't felt quite right since then so I think that has something to do with it, too; anyway, as soon as we got the camper leveled I crashed, which sucked, because I felt like every ounce of energy I had was depleted and that is not a great way to start a music festival weekend! Plus it was raining and cold and so I was crabby and on the verge of tears and, yeah. Good times. Not really. It had been like living in an oven here for the last week or so, so when I packed I didn't bring any jeans or sweatshirts, so of course when it rained it cooled down. Luckily I keep a warm jacket in the camper all the time. Alright, I'll quit complaining because despite all the little minor physical annoyances, I got my sad, sorry ass to the concert grounds to see one of my favorite artists, Crowder! Hashtag worth it!
Thankfully, it stopped raining overnight, so our chairs got mostly dried out by the next morning. However, I had signed up to do a 5k walk/run the next morning. I'd already paid and everything. And I really, really wanted that t-shirt, ha ha. There was no way I was going to try to finish a 5k anything, but I did have to go register in person to get the t-shirt. So I got my pitiful self up out of bed and walked to the other end of the campground. Thinking it was still going to be cold, I wore my longest pair of jean shorts, and a t-shirt, and my long-sleeved jacket (not the warmest one, which was still drying out, but the thinner one) and headed out. And you know what? It was sunny and humid. So I was sweating my ass off by the time I got to registration, which was like half a mile away from our campsite. But I got my damn t-shirt and then walked back to the campsite, only having to stop to rest once, and then crashed for a while again after forcing myself to eat breakfast. And yes, I was drinking PLENTY of water, so that wasn't the problem. I was still feeling just completely drained. A little better than on Friday, though. The sunny and warm weather helped. I still didn't want to walk around and look at all the vendors (yet I still somehow got like 17k steps in that day, go figure). The music was amazing, we saw Aaron Cole and Patrick Mayberry and Matt Maher and the headliner was For King + Country. (Forgot to add, on Friday besides Crowder being the headliner, we saw Jamie MacDonald, and my hubby also saw Ben Fuller but I stayed in the camper sleeping during his set. Sad Tash.) We missed Rachel Lampa on Saturday and another artist, I can't remember who, on Friday. But we could hear them from the camper, so, that was cool.
So that was the weekend. I have today off because why not? I also have tomorrow and Wednesday off because last August 2nd I wished I would've taken a couple extra days off so that's what I did this year, and I also thought my hubby was still going to be off work this week, but he's not. I don't remember the last time I wrote in here, if I mentioned that he was laid off for two months or not. But he was. And it was actually not a horrible thing at all. But he had to go back to work today, so it's just me sitting around the house wanting to stay in bed and cry all day. A little. But not really. We have Vespers at church on Wednesday and rehearsal tonight so I got up this morning and finished that presentation, and now I'm doing this. And laundry. Because camping for three days and two nights generates about two weeks' worth of laundry somehow.
Oh wait, we weren't camping. We were staying in the camper. My bad.
One thing that happened since I last wrote, my nephew got married! I guess I did mention that was going to happen in my last entry. Well, it did, and it was beautiful, and now I feel old. I mean, I felt old before then, but, yeah. We had a good time. If you're reading this, you're most likely FB friends with me so you've seen some of the pics, and I already posted last time how my Mom wasn't going to go. She didn't. I'm so glad I went, though. The hubby and I hung out with my younger nephew (the brother of the groom) and his fiancee. I just love those two so much!
Of course, my sister was there. She didn't say a single word to me. At one point, I was standing right behind her. She and her new husband (whom I've only ever seen in FB pics) were sitting in the front row, in front of the flowery arch thing where the ceremony was going to be, and everyone started gathering in that area to take some pics of the bride and groom before the ceremony. I was literally standing right behind them taking pics, and when I was done I looked at them and my little pea brain half-recognized him from, like I said, the few FB photos I've seen, and then connected the dots that the pale woman next to him with the long brown hair and the big, round glasses, wearing the purple dress, must be my sister.
Y'all, I would not have recognized this woman if I had run into her face-to-face on the street. I haven't seen her in person for about, IDK, 10 years or so? 11 or 12 maybe? Not even in pictures. She has lost a lot of weight, and it does NOT look good on her. She has not aged well. She's only 6 years older than I am, which would make her 57yo, but she looked like she could be in her 70's. She used to wear make up and style her hair and paint her fingernails, and she hadn't done any of that. And she was wearing a dress that was like three sizes too big for her and she just looked frumpy. I mean, she was never a fashionista anyway, but this was like...I don't even know. For real, though, it was the oddest feeling ever to just look at her and feel, like, not even a tingle of recognition. Not even the slightest bit. When I was seated where I knew I was out of her line of sight, I would purposely just stare and be like...Nope, nothing. I'd even tell myself - Tash, this is your sister. This is your flesh and blood. This person has the same parents that you do, grew up with you...and still, nothing. No feelings either way, actually. Neither love nor hate. Just indifference. She and her husband sat by themselves the whole time. I walked close enough to her to say "hi" many times. I actually felt sad for her. I was hoping she'd have changed and would've actually been somewhat sociable. But no, she was just as socially awkward as ever, just like my Mom, just like she's always been, staying in her own little bubble and ignoring everyone else.
I mean, I think I have social anxiety. But then I see my sister and/or my mom in social situations, and I go -- never mind, I'm good.
The one thing my hubby, bless his soul, pointed out, was that at least she seemed happy with her new husband. They seemed to be enjoying each other's company and not fighting with each other while they were sitting together alone at the big table all by themselves and hiding in the corner away from everyone else. So not only has she not changed, she's found someone who isn't going to help her change, either. Nice. Well, whatever. To each their own. I think it's hilarious that I was the one going around greeting the other family members (I mean besides the groom, who was doing the same thing when he wasn't busy, lol) who were there, which should have been her job. Oh, and the other family members who were there were HER former in-laws.
Well, like I said...whatever. I didn't go there for her benefit, I was there for my nephews, despite her not wanting anything to do with me. She and I once promised each other that we were going to break the cycles of the past, and not be like our parents and just stop talking to our siblings and not have anything more to do with them or their children for no apparent reason. And yet, that is exactly what she has done. And what she is perpetuating with her own children now, too.
Alright, enough of that, already. I'm gonna sign off and do some more laundry and maybe take a quick nap before I head to Vespers practice. I've taken up drinking a Diet Dew every other day or so again for some reason, but the thing is that it really messes with my sleep, and also I've been having some really weird and disturbing dreams lately so I could use an hour or two of comfortable sleep in my own bed again. Not that the camper bed isn't my own bed, but it's not, really. It's the camper bed. It's not the same.
TTYL!
