Don’t ask me why since this usually happens later in the spring and not on a rainy Monday, I’m terrible campsick. What does that mean? It means I want to be outdoors in the mountains playing with people who can have an intelligent conversation. Since most Camp staffs are college educated this is not terribly difficult most of the time.
I miss planning elaborate practical non-harmful jokes. I miss singing at meals. I miss campfires and children’s face reflected in firelight. I miss the smell of incense cedars after a summer thunderstorm. I miss short backpack trips. I miss horseback riding and nature trail rides. I miss laughing and being silly at naptime when the kids were allegedly resting. I miss being good tired in body and soul because you did something that was worthwhile. I miss children’s faces when they accomplish something they told you they couldn’t do. Gunnelling on the lake and the fish jumping in it at night. I miss Tajar tales and Pooh stories acted out before bed. I miss singing lullabies and having them echoed back from the other end of camp on a night breeze.
There are things of course, that I don’t miss like the smell of the Brownies in the AM. Someone in the Browns has always wet the bed or worse. It’s the real reason they are called Brownies was always my opinion. The biffies, Peter Pervert. Camp Dramas that weren’t on the agenda. Making candles when it was 102. Red ants at campfire. Killing rattlesnakes, but on the whole 24 hours at camp right now would be nice.