Campsite 22: part ii

21 August 2009

Daddy brought the the older kids up after dinner. Something about a photo shoot and work in the physics lab had kept Christian and Lolly at home in the morning, and Isaac and Dad were delayed, in Texas I think. The boys needed little encouragement to stoke the low fire, and as the little ones pulled on pajamas and sleeping bags, we huddled closer to the crackling sticks and branches and sang along with my guitar:

Well, I'm in love with a big blue frog
And a big blue frog loves me.
It's not as bad as it may seem
He's got glasses and he's six-foot-three.

Ghost stories are for girl's camp, so we related our real-life adventures; Isaac tried to whisper as he dramatized snorkeling with sharks, and the rest of us tried, only half-heartedly, not to interrupt with our own summer exploits.

Well I'm not worried about our kids
I think they'll turn out neat,
They'll be good lookers 'cause they've got my face
And good swimmers 'cause they've got his feet.

Chorus
Well, I'm in love with a big blue frog
And a big blue frog loves me.
It's not as bad as it may seem
He's got rhythm and a PhD.

Mom and Dad went to bed before the fire had crumbled to ashes, but we kept right on laughing, singing, joking and alternately coughing on the thin smoke that still streamed from our fire pit.

Well I know we can make things work
He's got a good family since
His mother was a frog from Philadelphia
His daddy an enchanted prince.

Chorus again!

Too many s'mores raised our collective blood sugar to a dangerously giggly level, and we could hear Tommy complaining from his tent compartment, "Stop laughing!! You keep waking me up!"

This unfortunately was made only the more hilarious my parent's stifled snickers; apparently we were keeping everyone awake.

The neighbors are against it and it's clear to me,
And I'm sure it's clear to you:
The value on their property will go right down
If the neighbors next door are blue.

Another Rousing Chorus!

When it got too dark to even see eachother's laughing faces we finally pulled off our tennis shoes on the welcome tarp and climbed into our 10-man tent. Lolly and I tried to crawl over half-sleeping Mariah while the boys made shadow plays on the walls.

Camping is not particularly comfortable, but what could be more comfortable than piling with your sibling in a heap of sleeping bags, in the middle of your family tent, in the middle of the lovely mountains?

Well I'm in love with a big blue frog
A big blue frog loves me
I've got it tattooed on my arm--
It says P-H-R-O-G,
that's frog to me
P H R O G!

Campsite 22: part i

20 August 2009

You go camping with little kids because they get excited about anything furry that moves (always identified as a "prairie dog"),and they remind you just how exciting very large rocks are, "Look there's a big rock!"

Also, little children are actually excited to learn such obscure facts as: Wildflowers at 9,500 ft must generate enough heat to melt the snow around them in the early spring to compensate for the short growing season.

Also, little children take naps in the afternoon, so you don't actually have to entertain them in the wild all day long.

Also, you go camping with little kids because, no matter the company, camping in the Rockies is stunningly beautiful.

Cecret Lake, just a mile north of our campsite in Albion Basin.

Travel log iv: check point

12 August 2009

My faith in our Nation's security is secure.

Today I won the airport security lottery, and they invited me to step into the great x-ray cylinder. When the officer dully asked if I had anything in my pockets, I foolishly assumed he was referring to anything dangerous so I said "Nothing."

The plexiglas doors turned closed with a sucking sound and the words "Beam me up Soctty!" had barely crossed my mind before the x-ray arm had spun around, the doors had opened, and the guard was inviting me out to explain how my x-ray was being reviewed in the other room.

A woman's voice crackled on his radio, "What's in her right pocket?"

I fished out an empty sandwich bag and a paperclip.

Oops.

I pulled my most remorseful hand-in-the-cookie-jar face and the officer sneered-- or was that a chuckle?

"She saw that in your pocket."

Obviously a triumph for the BWI Airport Security.

Which makes me wonder how the woman now waiting across from me made it through with her quilting and sewing bag- pins and needles and all.

New Favorite

10 August 2009

Ignore my music video- it was filmed on a Sony Cyber-shot, but I love this song!

Retail Therapy

09 August 2009

I bought my very first ever purse today. And let me tell you why:

This morning I woke up and pulled on my new cream sweater, a cable knit American Eagle knock off I found on a Marshalls' junior rack, which means it was a ridiculously good deal. I wore it over a scoop-neck-tee with a funky print reminiscent of Middle Eastern art in off-white and taupe. Of course, I wore my favorite dark jeans, and rounded the whole thing off with chocolate ballet flats from the Gap.

But unfortunately my carryall bag/feminine briefcase is black.

And you cannot hold your head high and cary a black bag in brown shoes.

Had I still been living with my 10, 7, and 3 year old Kusinen, I could have perhaps found an appropriate clutch in their dress-ups, maybe something purple or sequined in gold. But they had left for Utah, and I had moved into a house full of boys. So no luck there.

I took the black bag-- I had no other choice, but on my way home, I visited my favorite thrift store and bought a real, genuine red purse. Of course while I was there, I had to find a couple more things that go with Red; some new sweaters, and a couple pair of grey and black shoes.

And to think I used to hate shopping!