The one thing I love about May, is that it reminds me that it’s almost time to start thinking about camping. I love camping. It’s one of my favorite pastimes. We used to go allthetime – and I mean ALL.YEAR.’ROUND. - when my parents were married. After they got divorced (I was 7), dad still took us camping, but not all the time. We’d only go in the summer because my mom so graciously let him pay less child support during those months we’d spend more time with him (whether *I* wanted to or not).
I remember hiking, swimming, splashing in creeks, complaining about bugs, shivering at night ‘cause it was cold, sweating ‘cause it was hot during the day, the silence, the ability to hear every single sound while trying to fall asleep (and not letting anyone else know you’re frightened by the owl sounds), the crackling fire, toasting marshmallows, the stars, the stillness, finding cool rocks while exploring, sitting around a makeshift table playing cards (most likely Spades), cooking all my favorites (steaks, chicken, hamburgers, hotdogs, baked beans, bacon, and corn, among many other things) over open flame, the fishing, the peaceful and resting naps during the day, etc., etc., etc.
As I’ve grown into the 30 something woman I am today, I’ve made sure not to let my enjoyment for camping stray too far from the city girl image that so many wish I would follow. Soon, I’ll go through my camping checklist to see what needs to be replaced, added, taken off and/or bought new so that when it comes time to start packing, I’m not frantically running around to find last minute stuff. I hate that, and people that do that and cause disruption to my life drive me nuts. Lists, people. Make lists. If no disruption, no worries. Do it the way you’re comfortable.
All this talk has gotten me excited for camping. I’m looking forward to camping this summer, but I’m in no rush to make it get here.
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