This Summer's Maiden Voyage

We’re going camping this weekend.

I. Can’t. Wait.

We camp in a tent. The sister-in-law has a pop-up and is already jonesing for a pull-trailer. We use a tent, because it’s the one thing that convinces us we’re still camping. Let’s just say we don’t rough it.

On that note, don’t let people tell you that camping is relaxing. That’s a lie straight from the devil, People. I cook more at camp than I do at home. Here’s the list of shit we pack with us when we go. For a two night stay. Yes it’s ridiculous. We realize that. We embrace our stupidity.

Four room tent with screen room
Three air mattresses-One queen and two singles
The air pump for the air mattresses (plugs into the cigarette lighter)
Three sleeping bags and adequate amount of pillows
Four duffels of clothes
The swim bag with towels, suits and various and sundry other items
The boom box and bag of CD’s-all carefully selected (I would graduate to just taking my iPod, but I need one of those docking thingies)
The coffee pot and two packets of Kona (If we have an electric site, I take the percolator. If not, we use the camp pot)
Two camp stoves-top of the line from Coleman, thank you very much
Two dutch ovens and the bean pot (You can’t camp without cast iron)
Two plastic totes filled with paper plates, plastic silverware, napkins, paper towel, dish soap, aloe vera, hand soap, pots, pans, flyswatter, bug spray, citronella candles, etc.
One tote of groceries and spices
Two coolers filled with beer, water, and pop, plus the rest of the groceries-which includes half and half for my coffee.
The white trash chili pepper lights-if we have electricity
3 Lanterns
Playing cards
The Dog

We do this four or five times over the summer. I’m so worn out at work on Monday I can barely get through the 75 blogs I like to read. Why do this? Is it fun-really?

Saturday evening on the lake, sitting at a concrete picnic table, the music twanging low, cicadas screeching in your ear, the water lapping on the shore, the murmur of voices from the next site over, the fire crackling in the ring, the rustle of critters in the underbrush, the smell of the water, the sweetness of the beer on your tongue, and the kiss on your lips.

Is it really worth it to us? Sigh…Yeah, it is.

The Sky is Falling

The air moved sideways. I swear. I was putting supper on last night, glanced out the window and saw the air move. Well, actually it was great torrents of rain that the wind was pushing out of the way. But at first glance, it looked a lot different. So what did I do? I rushed out the back door of course. I stood under my porch and took it all in.

Nothing does my heart more good than a great thunderstorm, especially in the summer. I love that moment when the sky just cracks open and pounds the earth with torrents of rain. Since Big Britches was recovering from the plague, he didn't join me. I started to get Little Britches to come out, but come on, Mythbusters was on. So, I went solo this time. Which is OK. Sometimes the only company you need is your own.

When it was over, I went back inside and finished making supper. You've got to drop everything for a show like that.

What a way to spend a summer day

Big Britches has a stomach flu. Ghastly thing it is. He’s been puking every hour on the hour. He drinks water so’s to have something to barf. It’s sad. After 6 hours or so of the barfing, came the pooing. Barfing and pooing.

Isn’t this everyone’s favorite thing?

Is there anything more humiliating than sitting on the pot with the trash can between your knees? Hurling and exploding for the whole house to hear?

He’s 16 now. So if he makes a mess of it, he cleans it himself. It’s not that I don’t want to help, its just that adult poo and barf makes ME barf. Then there would be two messes- For him to clean up.

I want to fuss and coo over him cuz he’s still my baby. But because he is 16, he’ll have none of that. Plus, I don’t want to touch him for fear I’ll catch this plague myself.

What a Mom I am…

Alas, bring on the Lysol.

In the beginning...

I did it. I started a blog. It's a journal, folks. Not that my life is that interesting, but my someday grandkids will enjoy reading it just as much as I enjoy reading through my granny's old 'calendars' as she called them.

I jot stuff down in Word docs anyway when I want to remember something. I find that I'm interested in the lives of others. I read blogs all the time. Up until now, I've been a lurker/casual commenter. So I felt guilty. It's time to give back, I suppose.

Putting what comes out of your head and your heart out there for others to see is a scary thing. Least it is to me.

We'll have to see what comes of it.

Why 'Sugar Britches'? I'm not sure I'll ever tell. Let's see how we get on, huh?