Camping Trip 2, The Food - the End

When my mom and I got asked about what we were looking forward to camping, we both agreed it was the food.

And now that we are home, we get asked what our favorite part of camping was and we still roll our eyes, get a dreamy look and longingly say "the food".

Let me explain.

Here is exhibit A. Hubby got me this spider legged camping Dutch oven for my birthday just before we left. This was my first time using it. I made peach cobbler and ice cream...the ice cream was just cream. Really, I can make GREAT ice cream...just not when we are camping. Next time, I am just throwing a gallon of vanilla in the freezer for camping.

Anyhow, this cobbler was supposed to take 45 minutes to take by using seven coals under it and eleven coals on it's lid in a checkerboard pattern. My brother - who spent a summer in the state of Wyoming as a guide for hunt trips and well acquainted with cooking in campfires - told me to stick it in coals and pile them on top. But I tried it the book way.

And then I tried it my brothers way.

It took SEVEN hours to get this made...but had we made it my brothers way it would have probably taken just an hour.

I told everyone to they had better like it even if it was awful. They all claimed it was wonderful. Then I didn't know if I believed them. But I had some, and it WAS good.

We tried Oreo S'mores because they were suggested to us. (Tara, this picture is for you.) If one needed a chocolate fix, this would be their s'more.

We don't usually eat S'mores when camping. I'll eat one and then be good for the summer. But we ate at least one of these a night, I'm pretty sure. And since we made it home, I have maybe had one or three or so. The secret, reece's peanut butter cups. Ohhhhhhhh, I may need (another) today.

I will print this picture and look at it in winter to remind me of summer campfires.

This is my brother. He's making breakfast in this picture but he was the brilliant one of us who said "Why don't you bring a grill when you go camping?' and we all looked at eachother and thought, "Why not indeed?" He shook his head in wonderment that we girls survive camping at all and brought his grill.

Then he had an even MORE brilliant idea to have us just chip in a bit of money and he would make ALL OUR MEALS. My mom and I nearly fainted. ALL our meals?

My brother is a very very very very very very very very very very good cook. That may be an UNDERstatement. Honest.

I kid you not, S3 and S4 were sure by the end of camping that their Moma and Oma did not know how to cook at all and if Uncle left, they would surely have to survive on marshmallows alone.

We. Ate. So. Well. I could never ever thank my brother enough!

And here is the thing about camping with my mom and my brother and my sister in law and Egirl and Jr and my boys....it's family. And family like that is wonderful.

I rarely get a chance to hang out with my brother. I see his wife every Thursday and Friday but rarely my brother and it was so nice to just spend time with him. He is a hoot. If I could write the way he tells a story...oh my, I shake my head because I'm not even sure how to put it into words. He is that great of a story teller.

And it's nice to be sitting at the campfire, watching my boys sort their tackle boxes and I say "You know what plastic worms make me think of?" And he chuckles and says "I was just thinking the same thing!" and that's all we have to say.

Camping with family means you aren't worried about making a good impression...no, we've all seen eachother at our very worst and our very best, and we just love eachother.

Camping with my family is the best. The very very very best.

I leave you with a picture and story of the beach. My husband is not a beach person AT ALL. But when we camp our day is breakfast, pack lunch, beach, campsite, shower and then do it all over again. We beach bum it every day. It's so splendid and summer perfect! Husband can't handle this.

But this particular weekend the humidity was 76 percent or some craziness like that. And he came down to the beach and we floated on rafts and laughed with the boys ALL DAY LONG.

I think he got tired of me saying "I love this day so much. It's so perfect with you here. I love you so much! Thank you for coming to the beach with us!"

My husband - and those of you know him will be shocked by this - relaxed. And it was grand. It was one of my happiest memories of summer. All six of us lounging at a lake all day long. Wonderful.

Ah summer, why do you have to end?

We Went Camping....Getting There

As I type this post to you, I am hunkered down in a camper with no internet available at all. I am technologically cut off. Because I am vacationing.

But I did bring my wonderful present from my super intelligent hubby, my little accer laptop. And with it I am pounding out a few camping highlights for you.

Only a few. And it's hard to choose just a few.

Really.

Our camping stories could be a reality show. I'm not even exaggerating.

We camp in an old camper, that is large enough to cram all six of us into it. But usually it is just me and the dog. My boys have left me for a tent. They love the tent. My hubby works and doesn't get any time off but Sunday's and an occasional Saturday. So I have a queen sized bed and a stocked fridge and a tiny little bathroom that has a toilet that works. It's rough to have that time alone, I tell ya.

But getting to the campground. Oh my. If anyone has any tips at all to getting a never fully clean house clean enough to feel one can leave it behind plus clean a camper so that you can trash it by the time you pack enough stuff for six people to live in it for five or so days without ever leaving the camp ground (this includes every bike, every tonka truck, every tractor, etc that the boys own on top off bikes for everyone to ride INSDIE the camper) all while celebrating a son's birthday and taking care of another puking son and do with with joy and calmness, call me. I need to know your secret. Because I loose it. I blow my top. I stress. It. Is. Not. Fun. EVER. And that is putting it ever so lightly.

Then, me, with four boys and two dogs and no hubby pull a camper loaded to the roof behind my John Deere license plated suburban behind my Dad and Mom who have a 1949 restored Panel truck pulling the cutest ever little 1953 Vacionette camper that turns everyone's head and gets lots of thumbs up. Behind me is GM, my sister in law, in my brothers red pick up with the camo windows.

No one notices us. Just Dad.

Which is fine. Because I have to concentrate on driving. Because I have four boys asking me “are we there yet?' and two dogs sure they need to give me directions as I haul a swaying camper down some of the narrowest, curviest hilliest roads in the county. The roads we take, they don't have names. Seriously. I always check. I say “we go down the road that only one vehicle can fit on and there is a swamp on either side and the road is paved but it should just be gravel” and the people say “oh, I didn't know people used that road” and I say “what's it called?” and no one knows.

But we arrive. My Dad reminds me to breathe. I literally peel my fingers from the steering wheel, we jack the camper up to make it somewhat level, the boys empty a camper in such a way you would think they were finding long lost always longed for treasured presents with every sand filled tonka truck and bike. It's sorta like a boy version of Mary Poppins magic carpet bag, if that makes any sense.

And anyone who has the camping lots next to us, well, they stare at us. And wish they could blink themselves back to their quiet home.

Let the camping fun begin.

The Great Christmas Play

The boys were in a Christmas play for our church this Sunday and I could tell you that it went off without a hitch and it was perfect and all went smoothly.

Then you would look at the title of the blog to make sure that you were, in fact, reading the correct blog and then you would believe it had been hijacked.

But it DID go very well. The play went perfectly. The boys were great......
Well....
Sorta.
Here is what happened.

You recall my bad day that wasn't so bad. Yes, well, the glass places are closed until Monday so we did not have the suburban. But we had the great to the rescue cab and half, nice and cuddly close, plow truck.

On Sunday, the day of the play, we had church, we had dinner and then I had a little tiny bit of time to clean a big huge mess. And cook. And bake.

But I had a great plan. I made the cookies and then when husband brought the boys to church for their last practice at 4:30, I would clean the floors, wait til then to clean the bathroom, and be ready to go by 5:15 to be to church by 5:30 to get a great seat and cheer on my handsome fellows.

I have great ideas.
They just rarely work.

As I was getting the boys their shoes and socks (this is a big deal, they all had socks on!), I told S4 to go in and wash his face. He was gone a very long time. He came running out of the bathroom grinning. “See my hair, Moma?” he asked. “I cut it just like Daddy does!”

And he had. A big huge bald spot right in the very front of his head.

You see, Husband cuts his own hair. He buzz cuts it, along with the boys hair. But he trims his goatee with scissors, it gets singed by the hot wood heat so often he usually trims it every few days. And always always always when we are headed out to church or some other look nice event.

What do you do? I just sweetly smiled and said “Wow...how about we not use the scissors again though, okay?” His hair is so short I am hoping no one notices the bald skin....but I will.
Not long after the boys had left and I was jamming along to great Christmas music, the phone rang. It was husband. “Honey, please tell me that JM is home with the extra set of keys to the Dodge.....”

JM plows with Husband.

“Um, I think so.....” I said, straining to see if she was but not seeing her car. “Why?” I asked afraid of the answer.
“Somehow we locked the truck. And it's still running.”

Well, I skedaddled, grabbed the extra set (we so are making hidakeys after this!) and jumped in the big mean Dodge with the hunking huge v-blade and raced to be the hero.

It's kinda fun being the hero for Husband for once.

Except, the gas light was dinging just as soon as the Dodge rumbled loudly to life.

But I talked to Dodge, told him how to shift correctly and warned him of the predicament he'd put me in if he left me stranded with no gas and made it to the rescue, and then Husband and I celebrated by rolling into the gas station.

We are very romantic.

This put a HUGE crimp in the getting the house ready for the Christmas play party but I figure they are family and they are forced to love us anyhow so we raced to the church and arrived five minutes before the play began, when our family was all there already, waiting for us.

The play went off without a hitch. S1 had a speaking part and he has been grounded from all hunting or target practicing until he memorized his lines and since he said them correctly I am sure hunting will be in the very near future. S2 grinned perfectly, stood perfectly, sang perfectly. S3 was hard to see because he was on the far side of the group and I could only catch glimpses of him from where I was sitting. Then there was S4.

This was a big deal to S4. He was finally old enough to be in the play with his guys. He knew every sang every line with determination, a constant bop of his head to keep time. “Gloooo,oooo,ooooo,oooo, ria” was a fun one to watch him sing. Every new “o” was a new bop. When the play would start up again after the song, he would turn and watch it, I mean, why not, that's why everyone was here. And since he was at the end of the row, why not get comfy? Here's a few poses.

GM, my sister in law, and I especially liked when he was up on his knees waving his butt in the air like he had a tail. And then there was time when just the girls talked in the play and who wants to listen to girls? Apparently not him, because he just laid right down on the middle step in the middle of the stage and waited for them to be done.

But when it came time to sing, he stood up straight and sang proudly.

GM and I giggled through the whole play. Husband, at the other end of the pew, couldn't see him. So only half the church seen S4's antics.
Which is good.

(after the play, S4 didn't get the mic during the play, thank goodness!)

Afterwards my parents, Husband's Mom, my brother and sister in law and Jr and my sister and her husband and baby Back-up all came back to the house to eat the cookies and sloppy joes I had made and we ended up having more food than we needed and having more fun than expected.
It was a great night.

That went perfectly.