good times

Of the many things that I like, camping is right up there on the list.  I love camping.  I love the relaxed, go nowhere, do nothing, basic, basic, basic of camping.  I love getting to the campsite, I love the set up, and I love the mornings, where my job is to cook pancakes from a mix, and flip them one at at time onto eager plates.  I love the tiny coffee mugs, and the real cutlery and plates that I bring from home.  I even like the wash-up.  And then, the day is open before us.  What to do; almost anything and nothing.  Play catch?  Play a game of Battleship?  Knit?  Go to the beach?  Go for a walk to the marina?  Nap?  Visit friends?  Play volleyball on the beach?

Get goofy? 

So much free time, so much to do.  The other thing that I love, is that when you’re camping, you are still allowed to march along the sidewalk, swinging your sister’s hand, while singing “100 Bottles of Beer on the Wall” without a care in the world, and certainly without any idea that your mother is sneaking/running up behind you to snap a picture of you doing that very thing.  Because she loves it so much.

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