Grover Boyz Picnic, 2011

This weekend was the annual Grover Boyz Picnic in Southern Utah.

Kiki dealt with the ride in style.

"Look, Nicole Richie, this is what big sunglasses look like."

Jack and Doug feed a crowd every year: we come from miles around to enjoy good food and good company.

Me and Angie

The crowd at the Wildcat Guard Station

Jack, Kay, and Baby Annika

Although Ben is currently in the lead for "Favorite Uncle of All Time," even he couldn't get Whitney to smile for the camera.  She really is a happy kid.

The Shelton's show off their twin sweatshirts.  It's obscene to brag about your hard-core 16 mile trail race, so they had to content themselves with somewhat more subliminal messaging.

Jack and Doug present the Grover's.

Bruce and me in happier times. 

Also, I'm not trying to start a new scarf trend.  It's Kiki's special blanket that I commandeered while she used a rest area bathroom.  She would have taken it in with her if not for my intervention.

Dave, me, Liza, and Dan.  We are sadly missing John who was home with a broken ankle.  In case that wasn't quite enough to keep them away, his son broke his elbow on Friday.

Sometimes my brothers even smile for pictures.

Tres Vaqueros Locos

Charlie, Ben, and Porter

Courtnie and Kate

Kiki giving a "Doug Hug."

We spent the night at the cabin with the Shelton's.

Enjoying their morning joe.

Sunday was spent eating a fat breakfast then fishing at Lower Bowns Reservoir.  My kids have been begging to go fishing so they were thrilled to cross this off of their bucket lists.

Brian was our unpaid outfitter.  He brought the gear, baited the hooks, cast the lines, noticed when one had a bite, set the hook, then let Kate reel it in.  Then she bragged incessantly about how SHE caught the first fish.

Disclaimer: Only gross pictures from here on out.

My children were fascinated by fish guts.

This is a female fish full of eggs.

Well, she WAS full of eggs when her innards were still in her body.

After our successful fishing trip, we headed back to the camp for lunch.  It was uneventful until my nephew Charlie came running up to his dad clutching his cheek, blood streaming from between his fingers.

"Dad," he said, "it's really bad."

He had slipped climbing a tree and gouged his cheek.  It wasn't cut clean through, but when Deena and I got him to let us look at it, the cut was "smiling" at us.  It was pretty gnarly.  Slight panic ensued while we tried to figure out where one could get stitches on a Sunday over a holiday weekend in Wayne County.  Fortunately a doctor from Richfield ("A doctor or a vet?" I asked Liza.)was able to be dispatched to meet the Shelton's at the medical center in Bicknell where Charles received EIGHT stitches. 

For the record, Kiki had nothing to do with it.  She made a point of telling me that which almost makes me think that she DID have something to do with it.

As usual, we had an incredible time.  We love Southern Utah, we love the cabin, and we love the folks we got to spend the weekend with.