Camp

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So for the third year running, The Lovely Rhonda and I completely abandoned our core values (cleanliness, wifi, and Starbucks) and took the Collective Spawn to camp for four days and three nights of unmitigated dirt.

We’ve been home for seven hours and the washing machine has been in use the entire time save for the periods in which we ran baths for the Spawn, who were so encrusted with grime that we had to whittle some of it away before we left camp to be sure we had the right children.  The bathing was thorough and involved soap and washcloths, and afterward we were obliged to run the shower on each of them to rinse off the soap scum.  These sparkling clean children scarcely resemble the grubby filth-beasts we shared our cabin with lo these several smelly days.

We go to Camp Adams which is owned by our church.  The church has week-long camps for school-aged church kids and also rents the camp out for Outdoor School (through the public schools) and other such events.  You can get married there if you wish.  Personally I think this would be hilarious because afterward you could insist everyone tromp over the floating bridge to the swimming hole.  What says ‘Til death do us part’ more than making your nicely-dressed guests brave the freezing cold and mud of the swimming hole?

They hold a Family Camp every summer and some families have been going to this for thirty years or more.  We went on a bit of a lark three years ago and despite having to send at least one child to Grandma’s part way through the three-night stay for both of the first two years, we keep at it.  We have stubbornness issues.  I’m happy to report that all of the children made it through although it was touch and go for the youngest there at the end.

What do we do at camp?

Well, there is the aforementioned swimming hole.  It’s beautiful up there and the water is cool and refreshing (translation: your gonads will hide deep in your abdominal cavity no matter what gender you are, and if you’re female your nipples will slice your bathing suit top to ribbons).  The children love it so.

We also do things like make ice cream in a hand-cranked ice cream freezer somebody got as a wedding gift in the 50’s.

There are amusing skits and stories around the campfire.

It’s a pretty good time.

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