Saturday, September 30, 2006
They don't call it 'roughing it' for nothing
In a whim after I got home from work, my husband and I decided that we should take the kids and go camping.
Now mind you, I haven't been camping for years, not since the days of beer and bonfires. So doing a family camp thing was quite foreign to me.
We had to buy all the provisions, like a tent, sleeping bags and a pocket knife.
We had everything ready to go, including extra-warm clothing in case the temperature dropped, which it did, but that's another story.
Anyway, we headed toward our far away destination, which was my in-law's back yard.
Yes, we "roughed it" in their yard, which is seven acres, but we made sure we were close enough to the house so as to be able to go to the bathroom when we needed to.
My husband gathered all the wood and had a nice roaring fire blazing for us by 7 p.m. We looked at the stars and tried to find the Big Dipper (my in-laws live outside the city limits).
We also tread warily so as not to step in dog crap. Yes, we brought the dummy, Samson.
He enjoyed running all over the expansive yard. My mother-in-law brought her dog out too, and we visited with her for awhile, then my father-in-law came out too.
Hey, when you're roughing it in the mean wilderness, you gotta have visitors.
Soon it began to get darker and colder, so we decided to head into the tent.
We all sprawled out in our sleeping bags and realized that the ground sloped down, so it felt as though we were going to roll to the other side of the tent if we made one wrong move.
The boys began to talk about their video games.
My husband told them to "listen to the sounds of nature."
Just then a car with no muffler sped by on the highway, which was located down the hill from us.
"Not that car," my husband continued.
The sounds of nature continued all night, i.e. loud autos and motorcycles. My husband whispered to me at about 1 a.m., "I wish the bars would hurry up and close so people will go home."
It's really amazing how many people are out at all times of the night, and in the suburbs, too.
Such as it went, and Samson of course freaked out at every tiny noise he heard.
We would all be drifting off when ...
"Rawff rawwfff! Grrrrrrrrr."
And then the dog would begin to pace, no doubt wishing he was outside so he could sink his teeth into or bat around whatever was causing a "ruckus."
The dog in his fervor walked on top of my head more than once.
I began to wish a mountain lion might happen by, then I could throw caution and the dog to the wind.
By 6 a.m. the next morning we were all tired, cold, hungry and had to go to the bathroom, and I misplaced my sock. It's like the tent was one big dryer.
I imagine I'll come across the sock someday, crumpled up inside a sleeping bag, or maybe the dog ate it.
With some of the things I've seen him eat, I would not be surprised.
No, I don't want to talk about it.
Of course our little band of weary campers gathered everything up and loaded it into the truck, we said goodbye to my in-laws, who had had a decent night's sleep, and headed home.
Maybe next time we'll go camping in our own back yard, that way we can get in our own beds when the going gets rough.
And the dog can stay in the house.
Anyway, here's your freebie, it's called "They All Fall." Remember the many the hardships I had to endure to bring it to you. No Clinque for a night and no DST either. *cry*