Well, getting here was starting to feel like an ordeal, but we finally made it. After a busy week helping a friend paint almost her whole house, a wedding, a car that refused to be fixed, a flat tire, struggles with the bike rack, keys locked in the van and having to borrow a vehicle, we are actually camping.
It’s quiet now, the two little guys went out like a light once I was finally able to get them in bed. The rest of the family is over at our friends’ campfire, but I am glad to have a minute to myself, with just the noise of the crickets and some muffled laughter from the campfires nearby. I’m drinking tea from a mug with jack-o-lantern on it and eating a blueberry scone. It has rained off and on all day, but not enough to keep us from enjoying a shrimp boil with our friends or visiting around the fire.
The kids had fun riding bikes and playing with bubbles. Kay carved herself a pair of chopsticks just in time to eat shrimp with them. I’ve been here 24 hours now and I feel like I am just beginning to release some of the stress and tension of life in the “real world.” Camping is a sort of otherworldly experience in a way - no news, no TV, no schedule to keep, no reminders of the usual daily worries and problems. But it
always seems like going through a sort of detoxification at first.
It takes a couple of days for the effects of the stress to leave your system. I feel as if I let myself I would just fall apart - pieces of Terri peeling off and scattering all over the ground like the shavings from Kay’s carving. But the busyness, the needs and the expectations bind me together whether I will or no. I don’t know if that is a good or bad thing.
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