For years, I was skeptical of “river people”. Growing up in Richmond, people were always heading to the “the rivah” for the weekend, and I just didn’t understand what the fuss was about. So, this is me confessing and repenting because I WAS WRONG. I totally get it now. Because, for real, the rivah has quickly become one of our family’s favorite destinations. Ever. My children might never experience Disney World because of our complete inability to drag ourselves away from Warsaw, Virginia. You think I’m kidding.
And so now is the time I assault you with loads of pictures from our family vaca and make you think that it was perfect, we were perfect, all was perfect. And besides a case of food poisoning, a dog fight, an even more jacked-up shoulder, and one child spending half of the week sick, IT WAS.
No, like really, really relaxed.
You guys, we were there for seven days, and we only left the house/yard/river one time. ONCE. And that was to drive 10 minutes up the road for Slurpees. (Which incidentally are on my Top 10 list of things I miss about Virginia.)
We boated. A lot.
So we relaxed and we boated and to mix it up a little, we got really wild and even relaxed WHILE we boated… I know. It’s a tough life.
And THEN. Then there was the fourth. And sweet goodness, do they do the fourth up big…
My mom and her friendly river neighbors schemed last year to create quite the patriotic event for the fourth. So we decorated and paraded golf carts and Barbie cars. We tugged ‘o war and bobbed for apples. We feasted (oh did we feast). Because if anyone can plan a party, my mom and her comrades can.
To add to the festivities, my sister and her family drove up from Richmond for a few days. We like to call all of the cousins “spirited” which is really a softer, kinder way of saying LOUD and really, really active. One of my favorite aspects of the river house is that it’s located on a farm. We’re talking river on one side, cornfields on the other, and just so much beauty and quiet I can’t even handle it. So, naturally we do what every suburbanite on a farm does- all sorts of, ya know, farmy things.
And by “farmy things”, I mean going on recreational tractor rides and logging hours (HOURS.) on the Gator.
When we weren’t farming (HA), we were doing other very important things. Like teaching our child how to surf. In a river. On a boogie board. Because obviously we’re still getting this river thing down.
So, dear Rivah People who I silently judged and doubted in years past,
I was wrong. You were right.
Love, a happy convert