So. This weekend, we went camping. Camp we did, and a fine camp was had by all.
I'd like to start off by saying it was nearly as bad as I expected. That seems terribly negative of me, but being one who always relished the ability to shower at least once a day and inhabit accomodations free of wildlife, I was a little leery of spending 48 hours outside of civilization. Happily, things went very well, I had a lovely time, and I'm even planning on going again before the end of the summer. Wonders never cease.
I learned many wonderful things on this trip.
fact: the smell of woodsmoke, and whatever else you burnt on the campfire, permeates ever cell and fibre within a 100-foot radius.
what this means to me: while camping, everything smells smoky and yummy. As soon as you get home, your brother will make a face a demand to know why the living room is filled with the stench of smoke and sausages.
fact: we were warned that the mosquitos might be bad.
what this means to me: people in alberta have NO IDEA what bad mosquitos are. NONE. I came home with a few itchy spots, sure, but I do not feel actually anemic or look like I was attached by a swarm of bees, which would ahve been the case were I trying to camp in Ontario during a wet summer. These were wimpy mosquitos that the camp fire drove away, not the murderous bugs that can drain all life from a large dog in 30 minutes. Fie on your mosquitos!
fact: despite the fact that I roasted alive in my apartment every night leading up to the trip, when actually out of doors at night, it gets cold.
what this means to me: actually changing into pajamas is no longer an option, since it means taking off the precious clothing that is trapping precious heat. Any bit of clothing that can be used for warmth becomes a blessed cocoon. I don't think I have ever snuggled with Ed so much. Body heat is so attractive.
fact: the weather in alberta is unpredictable.
what this means to me: Saturday, after a morning of beautiful sunny skies, we found ourselves huddled under a tarp riding out a FREAK HAIL STORM that threw down so much ice Ed was able to bury, and thus chill, all of his bottles of Mike's Hard Lemonade inside a monstrous hailbank. We think it dented the car.
fact: it gets bright out early.
what this means to me: When your husband misreads the time, you can get up, wander around, make and eat breakfast, and then discover it is only 8am and you've been up for over 2 hours. You take a long walk and do some climbing and it is still mid-morning. Lunch starts to sound good by 10am. Your sense of time is completely telescoped and the day lasts for a kind of lazy eternity.
Aside form gaining these educational todbits, I also waded into a mountain stream so cold I felt the ache all the way from my toes to my hips, saw the World's Largest Killer Wasp, ate surprisingly amazing food, got a little drunk, and sat still longer than I thought was possible. It was glorious. despite coming back exhausted and itchy and smelling really very bad, I am quite eager to go again.
Also: welcome home Mo!