Party Time

I was sitting on my sofa one cold day in February; it was something like 10 below. On the television was “Pirates of the Caribbean.” I told my daughter that I would give anything to be sitting on a beach sipping on a pina colada. She agreed.

Since we were pretty much dug in for the winter and sort of bored, we tossed around the idea of a beach party. The next occasion was June and her high school graduation. We began to plan early. Lucky for us that when it comes to planning parties we have plenty of family members ready, willing and able to help. First thing we did was send out emails.

My cousin Barbara was in charge of tables and tiki torches. She also has a knack of making fruit bowls fancy. My brother Mike was drafted for cutting the tops off the coconuts for the pina colada’s and supplying the tent. His wife, Josey, strung lights and cleaned up after all of us. Mom, of course, had the honor of planning the menu, which was to be shish-ka-bobs and South Carolina hams. My job was to try to find a way to place a tent, volleyball net, horseshoe pit and limbo poles, tables and chairs, and a barbecue grill on about a quarter of an shared acre by my house. Who would have ever thought that it could be done?

As the big day drew near all eyes were glued to The Weather Channel. My brother set the tent up in the front yard. We hung the lights and shiny things from the center poles and retired for the night. His last words to me before he left were “Oh, hey Sis, the tent is not meant for heavy rain or wind. If you hear a thunderstorm brewing you have to drop the legs.”

Okay, I was confused. I am not good with tents and outdoor stuff. I reminded him that I am the one who ordered out for pizza when my son’s elementary school class was at a campsite in Gettysburg.

The evening weather forecast was for thunderstorms. At least I would hear them coming. I slept with one eye open and luckily the rain held off. The tent was still up in the morning. The food was done and everything was ready when the wind started to pick up.

I wanted to get ready a little early in case some of my relatives arrived early. I had just finished putting the rollers in my hair and was still running around in an oversized shirt when I heard that wind. Outdoors, I caught a glimpse of green from the corner of my eye. The tent was starting to move and was headed toward the volleyball net. If I didn’t catch it in time it would be like a game of dominoes. I could just picture it all, first the tent rolling into the net gathering speed and hanging up on the horseshoe stakes. All this fun before hitting the pina coladas!

I dropped my last curler on the floor as I ran out of the door in my socks. I dove at the moving support leg. I just held on screaming for any one who might hear me. Holding onto that one leg wasn’t enough and the tent started to pull the stakes out of the ground. One good breeze and I was certain that I was going to end up in Oz.

My mother heard me scream. She, too, was getting ready for the party. She was already wearing her grass skirt. She saw me hanging onto the tent leg while my curlers were dropping off one by one. I was only marginally aware that I live in the center of town. The two of us were too busy trying to keep the tent from moving any further.

Funny thing about it is that my mom too is a Realtor and we both felt as though we were about to be the stars in a Remax commercial. My brother pulled into my yard just as we were about to lose the whole thing. We dropped the legs, decorations and all. Luckily everything was still intact. After the graduation ceremony, I looked down the street from the school and saw my friends and family raise it back up like a giant beach umbrella.

And the party began.