The good, the bad, and the in between.

1. It was hot. Like, so hot it makes your skin shrivel up and actually steam while still on your body. This may seem a wee bit extreme, but if it does, you obviously didn't just spend an entire week at camp.

2. Phoebe asked me if I would bait her fishing hook for her because "she didn't want to touch any nasty worms." I may or may not have laughed in her face.

3. Chiggers love me. The feeling is not mutual.

4. I carried my friend, Julia, up a long, rocky, steep hill on my back. (Like, I know I exaggerate sometimes, but this hill is really steep and really long.) It nearly killed me. And I was delightfully sore for the next three days. This soreness was greatly helped by the soft, comfy beds I got to sleep on every night and the steaming hot showers I was blessed to take every day. Not.

5. The hot water heater in the little cabin where I shower was broken. You might think that an icy shower on a wickedly hot day sounds like the best thing since sliced bread, but it was only nice for about .8 of a second and then it was just plain miserable. Plus, going from approximately 190 degrees to approximately -120 degrees in less time than it takes a chigger to bite, (in other words, no time at all,) creates a severe risk of hypothermia. The goal became taking a shower while seeing how little water could actually touch me, especially at 6:00 in the morning or 1:00 at night, when I kept expecting ice cubes to burst through the shower head at any moment. The tents and campers around the cabin were privileged to hear blood curdling shrieks at fairly regular intervals. I'm sure they all appreciated it.

6. I drank three Dr. Peppers. Yes, yes, I know. But only when the choices were soft drinks or nasty camp water, (which is brown and often has flakes of rust floating in it,) did I yield. Stupidly, the first one I drank was at 9:30 p.m., and apparently my body does weird things when I drink my first caffeine in three weeks. Needless to say, I slept very poorly.

7. I didn't play a single sport the whole week. And I've never felt sorrier for delusional people who feel like it's somehow fulfilling to bop around a ball or whirl around a frisbee in treacherously hot weather.

8. I have some of the absolute best friends on God's green earth.




9. I fell in love with this little girl. She sucked her thumb while clutching her ear, and I think that's going to be my new look.


10. My pale green flip flops will never ever be the same. I'm afraid the brown outline of my foot will forever be imprinted on them.

11. French braids are awesome. Laura, you're the french braiding queen.

12. Emotions can be nasty, rotten little creatures sometimes.

13. Going to sleep later than 12:30 every night and getting up at 6:00 or thereabouts every morning doesn't put me in a sparkly, angelic mood.

14. I have taken a long, refreshing nap every day since Camp, and oh my, isn't sleep just wonderful?

15. I heart sleep. (Broken record? Who, me?) Especially on a rainy, grey afternoon, cuddled under clean sheets. No, this has nothing to do with Camp.

But in a way it does, because Camp makes me appreciate the little things in life, like roach free showers, sufficient sleep, the benefits of cutting line at lunch times, upholding traditions, watching beautiful relationships unfold, (yeah, I'm looking at y'all, K. and J.,) making charming new friends, and reveling in the companionship of old friends.





p.s. you may notice I like back pictures as opposed to face pictures. Well, duh. At Camp, what with the dust and the sweat and the dirty water, (and cold at that!) faces aren't at their best. Backs aren't quite so temperamental.

the thick, sweet smell of freshly cut grass...

...the pleasant sound of crickets chirping, a whippoorwill calling from the woods, finding faces and creatures in the poufy pink and periwinkle clouds, a milky white moon suspended, as it were, in the dusky sky, fireflies dancing in the cooling air, a frog hopping across my foot, making me screech with surprise - all this is a summer evening.

Ummm... thanks?

While in nursery tonight:

Maggie: "Miss Katie, your earrings look like legos."

forbidden happiness

Last night I dreamed that Laura poured a cold Dr. Pepper into a frosty freezer mug, added a squeeze of lemon, (it's delicious with lemon, I promise,) and then suddenly had to leave.

So, she handed the Dr. Pepper to me, and I could hear the fizzing, and could almost taste the sweet, carbonated goodness...

and then I realized I couldn't have any.

It was a terrible dream.

It's coming...

I can almost feel the sweat running down my back, making a cold shower seem the best idea since sliced bread. (Gross, Katie! We don't want to hear about sweat.) (Sorry, people, but I'm all about keepin' it real.)

I can almost feel the itchy terror of the chigger bites covering every available area of my being. (Use bugspray, idiot.) (Well, for your information, I don't like bugspray. It makes me feel sticky and stinky. So there.)

I can clearly hear the beautiful singing, wafting from end to end of Camp, pulling late-risers out of bed in the morning and soothing children to sleep at night.

I can see the mist rising above the pond in the early, early morning. (Ha! As if you ever get up early.) (I do get up early during camp. Sometimes as early as 6:15 - so ha! yourself.)

I watch the puff of the sand on the volley ball court as another sucker hits the dirt after sacrificing their body's well-being for the sake of a stupid ball. (Hey! Some people love volley ball! Back off, missy!) (Some people are just dumb. And some are smart; they watch volley ball from a safe distance on the bleachers.)

I can feel the welcome coldness of the much longed for popsicle as it slowly drips down my hand and turns my tongue bright pink.

I can hear the screeching coming from the girl's bathhouse when a snake drops from the ceiling, or when a mouse runs out from under the benches.

I can all-too-vividly anticipate the ache in my back after sleeping for a week on a bunk bed made out of plywood and metal.

I can smell the fishy-ness of the pond, and see the multitudes of barefooted boys rushing around with worms and fishing rods and ropes of teensy-tiny fish clutched proudly in grimy fists.



The dirt, the heat, the sweat, the noise, the cheers at the ball field, the happy faces of the filthy children, the cries of the hurt tot who can't find his mommy, the smell of hamburgers grilling, the preaching, the singing, the bonfire, the bible studies, the green and white canoes, the smothering life jackets, the friends made, the bitter rivalry between the little girls' cabin and the little boys' cabin in cabin clean-up, the hum of mosquitoes, the long meal lines, the late night whispered conversations after lights out, the rhythm of the ping-pong balls as they are batted back and forth, the clusters of people all around, talking and laughing and sometimes crying, all this is Camp. You can't have some of it without having all of it.

But I can tell you this: it's worth it.

Lee, honey, we need to have a little talk.

Me to Phoebe: "What do you want your baby sister to be named?" (We don't know it's a girl, but Phoebe and I are both Very Hopeful it will be.)

Phoebe: "Ummm... Pollyanna!"

Me: "I'm not sure your mama would go for that. What's your second favorite?"

Phoebe: (after a good bit of deliberation) "Cleopatra."

Me: "CLEOPATRA?! What do you know about Cleopatra?"

Phoebe: "She was an English queen who was killed by Mark Anthony."

Me: "Marc Antony. And who on earth told you that?"

Phoebe: "Lee."

woe is me.

Do you remember this post?

I was delighted that the days of my bitter captivity were over. Done. Gone away forever, or so I thought.

But a dreadfully inconvenient thing I shall refer to as the Sodium-and-Caffeine Monster declares that I partake of much too much sodium, and it punishes me by causing my hands to become distractingly hot, like someone is holding them over an open fire. As you can imagine, that's not a particularly pleasant feeling, and I often have to take an icepack to bed if I don't want to toss and turn and burn for many minutes before sleeping. And then wake up in the night, holding my hands under cold water for a long while, hoping for relief.

My point is, it's reached the place where Something must be done to conquer this Sodium-and-Caffeine Monster, and I really want it conquered before Camp, because Camp with normal levels of body temperature is bad enough, but Camp with uncontrollably burning hands doesn't strike me as the way I want to spend a hot week in June.

Really, I'm supposed to give up salt and sodium+caffeine filled drinks, but as I just simply cannot imagine food without salt, I am only giving up all caffeinated drinks, including sweet tea. Basically, I can drink water, juice, and lemonade.

This is sad.

My popcorn will be lonely without its dear companion, Dr. Pepper.

Chips and salsa will look on me with scornful eyes when they find themselves devoid of Sprite. (Or Dr. Pepper.)

And I am very much afraid that my sauteed vegetables won't even speak to me when they discover sweet tea with lemon, (or Dr. Pepper,) is no longer welcome at my table.

Last night, I drank two Dr. Peppers as a sort of farewell to happiness until the end of summer. If there isn't a HUGE difference by then, I'm going to call my Doctor a liar and take up my beloved caffeine with the same vigor as before.

Now, here goes.

starting my day off right.

Experts say that breakfast is the most important meal of the day. They say it sets the mood for the next twelve hours.

Which is why I ate homemade mango-peach icecream for breakfast.

I want to have that kind of day.