So, back to camping due to intense peer pressure. This peer pressure is the kind where everyone you know is going and your kiddos have been saying for a full year, "When we go to the church camping trip ..." and you just can't disappoint them about that. Disappoint them that, yes, we are having pot roast for dinner = yes. But, no, we are not going to the camping trip because Mama prefers her bed and also electricity = no. That's just how parenting works, apparently. (Kelly must totally rock at Boggle.)(I do.)
The weather was absolutely perfect. It turns out that the weather actually affects how much fun you will have and the ease at which you will camp.
We arrived Thursday morning, set up our campsite, and ate some rockin' soynut butter and jam sandwiches. (Don't get too jealous of our peanut allergy, er'body.) We toured the campgrounds, mostly visiting with the other families that had already arrived, and I made sure we visited one family in particular.
Derek and Asako are the closest thing to professional campers that I know. They cook everything over the fire, chop their own wood, and, most importantly, wake up early enough to entertain Esther so that she doesn't wake up the entire campground
|Dance while Derek plays a jig on his violin.|
After visiting, we spent some time at the beach, letting the kiddos run back and forth between the water, sand, and the playground. It was
After pounding a campfire grilled hamburger I put on my trail runners and hit the road. I normally only wear that particular pair of shoes when I am biking or taking a fitness class, but I thought I'd pack them for my campground runs. The campground was insanely hilly, and most of my run was going to be on dirt road. I'd mapped out a 4 mile run on Map My Run and set off with a full belly and gorgeous scenery.
It's always nice running in a new environment, especially one that peaceful. I was back in the woods for a while and saw a pond and heard a hidden stream. Around mile two I felt the rock in my shoe. It felt small and I only had two more miles to run, so I decided to tough it out and just finish my run. By the third mile I decided that was a stupid plan, stopped, and took off my shoe and sock. There was no rock. It was like a phantom rock. At that point I was pretty sure that I'd been bitten by a tick, you know, deep inside my shoe between my pinky toe and the one next to it (ring toe?) because weird pain in the woods is usually linked to Lyme Disease and we all know that is the
Then I got back to camp, took off my shoes, and forgot about my toe pain because it went away.
The next day was full of fun. I went to Wal-Mart right away because I didn't get the memo where you are supposed to bring junk food on a camping trip, and I was tired of my kiddos begging the families with delicious snack food to love your brother as yourself and share your Kit Kat's. (The good old church kid guilt trip, one mini candy bar at a time.) I stocked up on food that would win back my children's loyalties (except for Ezra because my friend Carrie has thoroughly stolen his affection with her amazing homemade cookies), and drove back to camp, passing the greatest temptation of my life.
180 miles of yard sales. On my route back to camp. I had two dollars cash on my person.
(One hundred eighty miles= minimum 50 sales between Wal-Mart and the campgrounds.)
The family was waiting for
Day Two of camping was filled with adventures. Stay tuned for Monday and the story of how I was
Have a great weekend!
*"Shoosh your face" - probably my new favorite expression and brought to you by Sue Diamond-Phillips, Diapers ... or Wine?