A Homeless Vacation

Imagine this: Looking up at the starry night sky, cuddling up to those you love, and feeling the crispness of the cool summer night hug your skin. Hearing the crackling of a fire, the soothing sounds of crickets, and the absence of ring tones and texts. Nothing to do but relax, enjoy nature, and escape.

This is the vision I had when I agreed to go on my first camping trip as an adult. After all, I do work very hard; I deserve an escape. Also, I like stars and cuddles. Camping will be fun, they said, you’ll love it, they said. So camping I went!

My family should be the spokespeople for campers everywhere. They should go around the country on a propaganda campaign spreading the vision of a magical wilderness wonderland that only camping can offer. They are without a doubt the politicians of the camping world. They’d say anything to get another set of work hands tagging along!

Camping:

First thing you must do is pack everything you own. I mean everything from furniture to cutting boards. And if you plan on eating something other than nuts and berries you’d better bring plenty of food…. Before you leave for your “vacation” you must first plan all of the meals you’d like to eat for the next week. That means 3 meals/day plus snacks and drinks, and don’t forget to include everything you need to store, prepare, cook, clean and serve the food. Feeling relaxed yet??

“What do I wear?” That’s a simple question with a complex answer. I was told to pack for everything. So I brought everything. I had bikinis and sarongs, along with winter coats and scarves. I looked like an ad for a trip around the world. The temperature difference from day to night was uncanny. It went from both extremes, hot or freezing; nothing in between. I remember seeing my mother in law walking around at one point in a bathing suit and Uggs. Glad to know I wasn’t the only one confused by the weather.

So you arrive at your destination, now you must unload, unpack, organize, and begin a fun filled day of work. I couldn't help but think, "Why do I work so hard all year to spend my vacation living like a homeless gypsy?" And that's when I discovered the lake. In between the work we were able to walk down to a private cove and spend the afternoons sunning ourselves on a beach. That was the highlight of the trip. The water was warm and welcoming and the views were breathtaking. My daughter was stripped down to her birthday suit and splashed around all day. Her chubby white baby butt prancing around was a sight that fed my soul. The world could use more chubby baby butts if you ask me.

After the sunny bliss came to an end, we would all go back to the campsite for cocktails and dinner. That means more cooking and cleaning. Then, you must hide all evidence of food before turning in because guess what. BEARS! Yes, BEARS live in the woods! They know what coolers and PIC-IN-IC baskets look like (isn’t that right Boo Boo?) And, they may just maul your face off. Goodnight!

Did I mention that I brought my baby? She’s an above average sleeper I’d say. We were sure she would sleep just fine in this strange RV with 4 other people. No problem Bob! That was until 3 am every night she awoke in an inconsolable manner screaming in a pitch that could shatter glass echoing throughout the campsite. No doubt waking up all other unfortunate campers…and bears. Every parent knows this feeling. Helpless, tired, embarrassed, frustrated and defeated. Thoughts of exercising the demon that has taken over my sweet child crossed my mind. Every night I dreaded going to sleep and every morning I felt obliged to go around to the nearby campsites and offer apologies for interrupting their peaceful slumber under the stars.

There’s a hefty price tag that comes with camping as well. You have to pay for the site, rent the RV, gas it up, and buy the groceries. I figured with all of the work involved someone should be paying me! Going camping means that you are essentially paying to work. And, as a bonus when you finally make it home, you get to scrub the RV inside and out before returning it or you will pay with bloodshed. It's in the contract.

All in all, I was dirty, hairy, smelly, hot, cold, constipated, eaten alive by bugs, and worked like a dog… but it was fun, I admit it. Not relaxing at all, but fun indeed. I enjoyed being with the family without TV or interruptions. Kent, Mike, Sami, Gramma Bea, GiGi, Eric, Sean and Colette each made me laugh in more ways than one. Even if it was at my own expense! I may just go again next year! And we will work out my salary demands beforehand…

The Villiage Villian

How often to you think about Armadillidiidaes? Never you say? The reason I ask is because today I had a run in with many of these creatures.  They are better known around town as the Rolly Polly. They are scaly, tiny, creepy, crawly monsters that are capable of curling into a tiny boulder and can essentially roll away from danger. How they have survived so long is beyond me. I don’t know about you, but every time I try and roll away from danger, it's because I am on fire. But that’s just me.

When I awoke this morning Armadillidiidaes were the farthest thing from my mind (imagine that). I looked out the window and saw a beautiful overcast sky, a refreshing break from the recent heat wave we’ve had lately.  I decided to take advantage of the weather and quickly packed Colette into the jogging stroller went out for a peaceful run. We headed toward the paseos, a beautiful path surrounded by tall trees and greenery, which seemingly doubles as a crossing ground for the Rolly Polly’s of the world.

Not far into our run did I realize that I was jogging on my toes hopping all over the path attempting to dodge thousands of tiny black prehistoric looking slugs that kept rolling into balls and ironically, kept rolling right under my feet. It was like I was atop a pile of hot coals, knees up and arms whaling. Unfortunately for them, between the 3-wheeled stroller and my two clumsy feet, Colette and I must have slaughtered the entire North Valencia empire of Armadillidiiaes. It was gruesome. I will hear the crunching of their skeletal bodies in my dreams.

As we exited the Paseos and neared closer to home I began reflecting on the gory scene that had just taken place. Should I feel guilty about what I had just done? Should I be punished? Should I attempt and correct the wrong I have done? Maybe build a tiny fence that keeps the Rolly Pollys off the path? Hmm.

Then I realized, thank goodness I’m not Buddhist. I’d be in big trouble. Maybe reincarnated into a Rolly Polly whose fate lies with a mother and toddler duo running awkwardly and wrecking havoc on the villiage. Or that Karma would turn around and have me smashed by some giant somewhere. It’d only be fair.

Well, like I said, I am not Buddhist. Therefore, if you are a creepy, crawly, scaly, crunchy, skeletal, petrifying creature, then keep away from Colette and I. We will stomp you.

**Karma is a Sanskrit word from the root "Kri" to do or to make and simply means "action." It operates in the universe as the continuous chain reaction of cause and effect. It is not only confined to causation in the physical sense but also it has moral implications. "A good cause, a good effect; a bad cause a bad effect" is a common saying. In this sense karma is a moral law.**