canoes are not your friend & chattering does not equal nibbling

it wasn't so bad. really. it was cold and wet and dark by the time the tent was put together. but anne and i did not argue even once during the whole process. and we had never put this tent together before. the lantern that my grams found for us worked until just after the tent was together...phew.

we got our stuff into the tent pretty quick, got the bed blown up with cold air, laid out our sleeping bags and then went and joined the other campers who had started a fire. there were hot dogs and brats (which took forever to cook). jan and i ate mustard sandwiches after the top flew off the bottle and filled our hot dog buns, and got on us our shoes and all over the ground.

the littlest camper, tyler, had quite a night of trips and falls and bumps. poor guy. but he took it all on like a champ and just kept on going like little kids do. it is kind of a symphony to watch...slip, trip, stumble, fall...mom, dad, hugs, kisses, squeezes...shhhh, rest, sniffle...up, walking, talking, running...and here we go again.

i was really a bear that night, wanting to huddle in a corner with a stash of hot-dogs and marshmallows and be left to sulk and pout a bit. but camping is community, it brings out the need for reliance on others to help make up for what you lack. i am not so good at relying on others. not at all. this trip taught me so much about myself and my internal weaknesses.

lesson #1: you can die from cold but it is unlikely if you sleep with anne maureen.
god bless you, you little personal furnace. at first i was just plain COLD. the dampness had sunk into everyone of my bones particularly my legs. my ass was cold enough to set an ice sculpture on. but my lil furnace of goodness she had me toasty by 3am...we went to bed around 9:30 or 10. in-between times i was tossing and turning, shivering and wishing for morning. all night it sounded like the rain my drowned us by morning. but i think some of the noise was nuts falling from the trees as the wind had picked up. i wanted some camping lovins, at least one great moment of pure bliss, cook up some steam in our tent to keep us warm all night. but chattering is not nibbling. in fact it impedes said nibbling.

lesson #2: camping is cooking, eating, cooking, eating, cooking, eating.maybe it was just our group...but it seemed that all we did was cook things and then eat them. it made me think about how much time cavepeople must have spent on just that ONE need. all of us "new age cave people" had to gather food before we went and hoard into our lil cave cars and move said cave car to the campsite, where we unloaded our little treasures to share with the other "new age cave people". we were lucky because all of our cave people brought equally as good of eats. it could have gotten ugly if one of us had brought twigs and berries and others had twinkies for roasting. and ooooh did we roast things. hot dogs, brats, marshmallows, donuts, biscuts, cookies, granola bars. (i really do wish i would have thought to bring some twinkies.)
fortunately all of the weight i gained during the day was shivered off that night.
oh and fire burns off dirt. if you drop it you just cook it longer. if you get ash on it, you eat it anyway. if a child ate part of it and left it, you cooked it longer and ate it.

lesson #3: i am likely to be a neurotic, obsessive, over-protective mother.there were so many times i had to look away. because my kids would have watched the fire from 500 feet away and i would have shown them pictures of the lake after we left the campsite. in truth the kids were perfectly fine. but my heart skipped beats sometimes when they would stand close to the fire or go down to the fenced dock to play. their parents are examples of how i hope i really can be with my kids someday. the patience and grace and compassion and kindness and honest interest that they have invested in their children is inspiring. and i am certain will be returned to them 100 fold as these lil ones grow to be open, creative, tolerant, accepting amazing beautiful beings. (thank you anne, mike and chandra for letting me see such real parenting.)

lesson #4: campfires are round tables with serious warmththere were so many good discussions that happened around that fire. and i was really privileged to get to know someone who i didn't know really at all. listening to each other was so awesome. talking about hard things, deep things seemed to come billowing out just like the smoke from the fire. i felt some of my own walls being melted by the heat. i saw some of my assumptions pop like embers and then turn to ash.

lesson #5: canoes are not your friend.well, they are not mine and they are not jan's. i tend to want to face my fears head on, except that i won't touch a snake. when anne wanted to go in the canoe i didn't want to look like a chicken and i thought i should push myself to try. i don't know where my fear of falling into water came from and i didn't realize how much of a phobia it was until i was in the middle of the lake. poor anne took the brunt of my panic as i plead with various explitives for her to get me back to the dock, NOW! bless her, she was trying so hard and trying not to make sudden movements. i am surprised that there are not holes in the side of the canoe where i was gripping it. and the other ladies of the camp were down on the dock screaming out encouragement, proud of me and my attempt to be a brave canoer. i remember throwing my paddle to the front of the canoe and yelling something like..."get me the FUCK up out of here." i felt bad about my seemingly childish behavior. but i was honestly terrified. at one point i thought about just jumping in so that i would know when i was going to get in. so that my meet and great with the water would be when i wanted it to be NOT when the canoe chose. when we finally got back to the dock, i crawled out and was shaking so bad i thought about just staying there clinging. instead, i stomped off, trying desperately not to cry. seeing my dad in front me shaking his head. saying something like..."Margaret, there isn't a damn thing to be afraid of, what is wrong with you?" i felt small. i felt like i always did as a child, not good enough to just buck up and do it. not good enough to win his approval. i didn't fit as a girl to him and i didn't fit as a boy. i sat cutting potatoes for our dinner meal, feeling badly for getting upset and taking some of it out on anne. rosanne and anne o. both came and talked to me about the experience and helped me talk out some of that irrational fear. and helped me understand that even though it is irrational it is still a valid feeling. the canoe did not tip on me, and i am proud of my first step.

the canoe did tip on jan, when she took it out to fetch a fishing pool that had fallen into the drink. she took a dip in the cold water after getting tangled in the line of the pole. it scared me. she made it out just fine, shivering and stripping layers of clothing. i see london, i see france, i saw jan's underpants. jockey boxer briefs. such an uber-butch she is. i will not be going in a canoe for a long time. at least not with jan...hehehe. it isn't my fear of the water, it is my fear of seeing her underwear again. (just kidding, jan.)

lesson #6: three bodies on a air-mattress require co-ordinated turning.
and three bodies make lots of hot air...gas, smelly and otherwise. rachel, anne j. and i turned back the clock to age 13 by just crawling under the same unzipped sleeping bag. it was so amazing for me to hear them giggle, just purely giggle. and then giggle at their giggles.

during the night i had to turn alot because something on my body had gone to sleep...not in a good way. in order to move, since i was in the middle, i had to announce said turning. it went something like...."i am sorry, but i have to turn over..." grumbles heard from tent-mates..."hey, anne can you please move your elbow so that i can lay back down..." grumble, grumble, grumble. "sorry rachel, but i really need to roll the other way..." snoring snoring snoring.
at some point in the night i thought i might have a melt down. being in the middle had the advantage of warmth but the sense of entrapment. i was penned in by two ladies and a dog. thank god i didn't have to pee at any point.

lesson #7: it is only what you make of it
fear of spiders crawling out from under the lid of the "toilet" (that was a hole in the ground with a toilet body on it), fear of freezing to death, fear of falling into the "raging"...lake, fear of children getting injured and huge arguments over putting up a piece of fabric called a tent. it was only what i made it...kinda scary. but i did it, i lived. nothing bit me, nothing turned black from frost bite, i didn't get wet...at all, and the tent caused no decrees of divorce.
the people i went with made it for me. getting to know each of them a little better as we "roughed" it and shared stories of our families and our youths. i won't go again in super late october, but i will go when it is around 70 degrees, no rain in the forecast, and a wider canoe...more like a boat, and a camper with a toilet that flushes!
hey! it two steps back, one step forward.

more soon...