Happy 11 months to me! 11 months no booze, no hangovers, no blech.
Well, occasional blech, but not related to drinking.
Summer is almost here which gets me to thinking about camp. Here in Vermont, when you talk about "camp" anytime but the summer, it means a little cabin in the woods or on a lake that families use as a vacation retreat. It started with deer hunting camps. I had no idea when I moved here - my friend said we were going ot her "camp" and I thought she owned a large place with cabins and a mess hall. Imagine my surprise when I saw her family's cabin.
During the summer, "camp" for families means what it means to the rest of the world. Summer camp. Now when I was a kid I went to lots of different camps, including a church camp that my sister got kicked out of for questioning the existence of God. True story. I don't know what we were doing there in the first place, as we are the most non-religious people ever. But maybe my parents were trying to jump start us, or something? In any case it didn't work.
I also have a memory of going to a day camp where we had to dress up as Native Americans (although in the 70s we said "Indians") at the end of each session. I'm not sure why. I don't remember activities related to the culture, just tea-stained muslin outfits made by mom with beads and feathers. Like it was some sort of contest to see who had the best outfit. I'm pretty sure I didn't win or my memory of the entire thing would be vastly different.
Later came not camps, but "summer programs". No cabins. No nature. Nothing traditional. I loved them, but as far as camps go, I'm not so sure they fit the definition.
Maybe it's because I saw the movie "Meatballs" as a kid and it scared me away from camp life forever? Is there some sort of medical term for that condition? Like Bill-Murray-itis? I love Bill Murray so I'm sure it can't be that.
Anyway, it's camp time again. I am SO not sending my kids to Meatballs camp.