We are just about packed up for a fun camping weekend. Destination: Holter Lake. Our only rule: NO clocks allowed.
I must confess that although it can be a little stressful trying to get everything done, I absolutely love packing for trips. Probably because I love taking trips.
This afternoon we are headed to a popular recreation area less than an hour from our house. We have the kick-boats all loaded up along with some fishing gear. Swimsuits are packed, sleeping bags, glow sticks, camera. And marshmallows. Forget your tent, your underwear or your toothbrush, but I’m pretty sure it is a crime to forget the marshmallows.
Remington is not looking too impressed with me right now. He knows we are leaving. The pile of sleeping bags waiting by the door gives us away. I know he doesn’t like being left here, but he would dislike camping even more. So I have spent the day sucking up to him with extra milk and tasty treats. Hopefully he will forgive me.
In about two hours we will be taking off, heading toward campfire country. We will return Sunday afternoon with sunburns, mosquito bites and dirt in our hair.
I can’t think of a better way to end a summer weekend.