Leisurely Reading, Dangling Over the Armrests

In this post I wrote about how much our family took to reading while on camping trips, especially those where we didn't spend as much time sightseeing.

In our elementary years we took to reading a lot. We spent a lot of time dangling ourselves over the chairs like these in the living room. Though the ones in our living room had skirts along the floor line.

There were two chairs there. One was blue; the other was pink. The blue one had been there longer & had matched some other furniture. The pink one came to us because it had previously matched someone else's living room, though they weren't able to use it anymore, so we inherited (or, maybe it was from us, so we just 'took it back' 😂). It wasn't ever an intention for it to be a blue, for boy, chair, & a pink, for girl, chair.

We probably started out by sitting, or slouching, in the chairs; this turned into us turning ourselves in-so-that our legs were dangling over one armrest while our head used the other armrest for a pillow. In fact, Dad took most (read: 99%) of our family's photos as Mom never felt she could get the proper focus, nor center an image properly; Mom took out the family camera & figured out the focus one day to capture her kids dangling across the living room furniture - just reading away.

She had quiet & bliss, & she knew what we were up to. She could see what we were reading (though she didn't pay much attention, cause there wasn't much attention to pay; we didn't stir that pot - as the saying goes). Her children were learning in a very healthy way; she had nothing to fear.

This contentment carried itself over into our family camping trips. We'd bring most of our latest loot from our recent trips to the local library; which, conveniently for us, happened to be located just a few short blocks from the house.

One of my brother's English teachers preassigned a list of books for his class to read throughout the summer - that they'd be tested on these works upon resuming classes at the start of the school year. He worked to tackle that list &, along with several other students, decided what he thought the teacher's true purpose in this listing of reads was to be about: simply keeping up with continuously reading & not taking a summer break from such a means of studying, which my brother hadn't - at all.

I think he made sure to at least know the general content of each of the books on that teacher's list, though he took to that final, early-August camping trip in a whole different way than he typically had, truly focusing on reading in his leisure, & not much else.

It was likely sometime during the course of that summer, or maybe the one following, where he mentioned he knew I'd be reading certain books in my English class & that I should read them during the summer, then again once the school year began when they were assigned to me, in order to best help me learn them & know them well.

I did just that; well, sort of. I began reading this book, one of the books my brother knew for certain our high school required students to read in order to graduate. I thoroughly enjoyed it & figured it wouldn't be too difficult for me to get myself to re-read it once the school year began & the teacher said it was time to begin it. Problem was, I enjoyed it sufficiently enough, & took to reading it in August, which was so close to the beginning of the school year (week's away - we began annually on a late August date), & the book was assigned so soon after the school year began, that, well, I didn't. That's right, I didn't re-read the book. I remembered the content & listened in class discussion. When the teacher prompted me, I did struggle a tiny bit, because I was reaching into the back of my mind, rather than a forefront, recently attained knowledge "section". I knew the content & responded with the correct response, so therefore passing what could be considered a "quick quiz". I had nothing to be intimidated for; I enjoyed my English teacher that year, & I enjoyed that book - that one that I hadn't taken the time to re-read 😂 after cruising through (read: enjoying it so much on my own, I definitely read it well & studied it) it while camping.

That school year was the same one where I read this book, where I learned about protagonists & that basically I'm a rebel at heart. I rebel low key though as my type of rebelling comes in the form of my wanting the story's protagonist to be someone other than who it actually is. I wrote my paper & followed all of the guidelines, however many pages & paragraphs I was required to include; I turned it in.

I received it back. I needed to correct that paper to write it making the selected character the protagonist. I mentioned this at dinner. My brother told me how I had the wrong character. I was kindly instructed to re-write the paper in order to turn it in. It would be easier to write it, making the correct character who they really were in the story line. Instead of forcing something that wasn't right. (Gee, how many adults do that all the time?! 😂) I was learning at this early age that it wasn't worth the trouble (& I'm far from truly putting it into practice well today!).

Looking back at reading lists, like this one, I realize just how few of these works I actually have ever read (most of these I don't remember ever existing!). I'm inspired & encouraged, & even though I know I won't be "running on out" to go & knock them off of a newly established reading bucket list of mine, it's a great reminder of the power of this literature...& what our high school age minds can really soak on up. As the proverb goes, minus the money part, "The world is one's oyster." & that about sums up the gains of reading these literary works.

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Sunday Obligation

Our family attended church regularly, whether we headed to church from our house, as we would on ordinary weeks, or we headed to church from the campground, as we did while we were vacationing. We kids were raised that being on vacation didn't mean we were on vacation from our obligation to attend church on Sunday morning.

So, we'd go to bed each Saturday night of camp knowing that we'd all be quietly & constructively assembling ourselves to get up & get showered once the morning rolled around, & get ourselves in the "Sunday Best" outfit that we'd brought along for said cause in order to pile into the family minivan in a timely manner & drive off to the local church for whatever the time was that the church had posted.

Oftentimes the camp store would have pamphlets or information on what time the different religions had their church services; after all, this was pre-smartphone/Google-your-local-church-to-get-their-services-times-era. And some campgrounds would have one "coverall" service for those who wanted to just attend "a church service" for the weekend & whatever the camp provided was sufficient for their needs.

In this we'd have each packed the pair of shoes which matched the rest of the outfit we'd designated to wear to church. At this point in my life I didn't have a lot of outfits "acceptable" as church wear. Whatever I had on hand is whatever I'd have brought - probably a simple skirt & top along with a random pair of basic, plain slip-ons for my shoes. And probably not a pair like this or this. After all, we were at camp & still took into consideration that we'd likely be walking in some amount of dirt/mulch/not pavement to get ourselves from the camper to the church's parking lot without messing these up/breaking them in, much more than preferred. Then there's a pair like these, where they'd be considered "camp acceptable", so if I'd have a specific outfit that would ideally match them (& I'd be trying to make sure that I did 😁), I'd at least have Mom "signed off" on my packing them specifically to wear for Sunday morning "at camp" church.

Dad's never believed in shorts for church, so no one in the family would've been wearing shorts, even if they came back afterward & immediately changed into a pair of shorts for the rest of the day, shorts were not worn to attend church. Ever. Period (And this is still the drum to which Dad marches. 🥁) Khaki pants most likely, but black, navy, brown, gray, whatever, was just as well.

Afterward we'd all head together to the local grocery store for breakfast, if we didn't break our fast at a local breakfast joint over a hot meal of eggs, potatoes, toast, pork fat product of choice, pancakes, etc., before heading to the grocery store, we'd pick up a continental breakfast & week's groceries if just getting started at camp. We'd only pick up the continental breakfast, for our Sunday breakfast, had we not been served at a restaurant instead. Or, if Sunday was the kick off of our camping trip & we'd (read: Mom) not necessarily planned for another breakfast to begin our week. Essentially a hot breakfast of protein (read: eggs) would be prepared, or a continental breakfast of fried dough with processed sugar icing glazed about the top portion would've been purchased during this grocery shopping trip 😂.

We'd then head back to the campsite to figure out how to enjoy a super short amount of time that was completely ambiguous & then de-pop-up the camper & hitch it back onto the backside of the family minivan to head back to the house where we'd give the neighbors the "show" of backing in the pop-up camper into its made-for-it slot at the back side of our driveway.

The neighbors would frequently, out of being tired, or maybe actually respect, head inside once this "process" began. After all, they had watched Dad back-up the camper many times before.

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Closing Up This Seasonal Shop

We "closed up camp" too...pop-up camper style. All the pantry items like this, this, this, this, this, this, & this too (all of the foods which needed to be heated to be eaten), went back into the pantry (Really, we ate like royalty while we were away & at a camping stove! 😂😏😄😉 You don't agree? 😊😂), though I'm quite sure Mom would've had us finishing up the majority of those boxes, cans, & containers that had been opened while we wrapped up our final days of camping in August, or when we got back, the food would be the first to be eaten at our leftovers meals. That, or Mom would ask Dad, "Do you want to just take X item for your lunch tomorrow?"

He'd reply, "Uh huh." Nodding his head in agreement. (His only reasoning for disagreeing would be his knowing in advance that there'd be lunch available at work due to a "work meeting". Then he & Mom would figure on the next-best-day for him to have the leftovers for lunch.) We never camped once the school year began & we've not been camping together since us kids graduated. Neither of our parents have ever been much into wastefulness. These are some of the times when Dad's lunches got labeled "gourmet lunches". Our lunches, during the summertime, as well as during the school year, always amounted to crackers, sandwiches, or what might be served on the school cafeteria's lunch line. Custard cups full of meal "remnants" was to be only something we could drool over in waiting on our adulthoods to arrive.

Sometimes Mom wouldn't want certain boxes, cans, & containers waiting around until the next year (especially depending on how long they'd been lingering around our shelves already, expiration dates & all) &, for whatever reason, these same items weren't taken to the church's food bank for the less fortunate, & we'd eat a final few "camp meals", sometimes at "camp meal time": after 9 p.m., before our household went into full prepping-for-the-new-school-year-mode. Everything was organized & scheduled in our household, sometimes it got to be too rigid.

*****

All of the linens were stowed together. Dad had installed one of these in the ceiling corner of the powder room he'd designed on our main floor, right behind our kitchen. Ours was white, which worked well with the color scheme of this tiny powder room; it basically blended right on in. The cabinet hung conveniently out of the way in an alcove of a sort in this ceiling crevasse directly above the toilet, yet way up, high over our heads. It fit just snug as if designed for such a spot, with no remaining inches on the left or right hand side. In order for us to access it, we needed to get the step stool; the latch was at the top was out of reach even for the tallest of us: Dad.

Getting our items back inside the house sometimes proved frustrating, emotional, & well, family. Sometimes the kid's roles were ridiculous & it would've been nice if Mom had taken a moment to break & take at least one of those "runs" rather than dictate & delegate as was her personality norm. Though that was the way it was.

A glory time was when it was just the bare bones camper & on its final "airing out" of the season. When the slide out beds were "out", yet not fully in place. If Mom took a break from unpacking the camper & headed inside sometimes it could be pretty fun to just dwell & relax on the bed's mattress. Just to stretch out & contemplate everything &, at the same time, nothing at all.

I always thought it would be nifty to camp out at the house & sort of made believe that's what I was doing when I was able. These times of me just chilling on my back, lower legs just dangling along the edge where our handmade shoe bags hung while the camper sat parked at a site (they'd be flipped up underneath the single-layered mattress while we traveled, & removed for washing & then storage inside the house [keeping them away from roaches that would nibble at their fabric] until the start of our next camping season), were such times of my daydreams. Simple living. That's certainly what I've turned life into. Only what's necessary is what's now. I'm still a bit of a glutton, though having just that which I really, truly need is what makes me smile the most. 😁

At some point Mom would call to me (she couldn't text me as no one in our family, or neighborhood had mobile phones yet; these were, by far, not current times) (and the mobile phone she would have called on would have been large & clumsy, & costly too) & I'd (well, very) reluctantly drag myself back on into the house. She'd likely have prepared the family dinner & we'd need to be getting ourselves to the dining room table, or else when she'd call to us it was because she'd have our next "assignment" lined up & it was time that we needed to get moving on that task instead of wondering about what could've been, though wasn't.

It was time to return to the normalcy of living underneath the house's roof & within the walls of the brick & siding of our two-story house. After all, the school year would be beginning all too soon.

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My These Times, They are a Changing

When I think of camping I think of being rustic with conventional means; conventional sources. When we'd be camping we'd drink plenty of this & this, though it's sold more like this & this or this now-a-days.

And just as that's changed from decades ago, so have our receptacles. We recycle things now. And like good little, faithful soldiers, our family stepped up to the plate. If something we used was something that was to be recycled, then we'd make sure to get it in its proper bin. We'd notice if campgrounds had the ability to help us recycle; or, if our recycling load was light enough, then we'd just bring it back to the house with us when we left camp.

It's always seemed that our family made sure to do most everything by-the-book. Recycling while at camp was no exception to this supposed standard. We'd have a plastics & aluminum bag or Mom would be ushering one of us kids to run the items to where they belonged (probably some receptacle like this sitting out back behind the camp store) before our accumulated bottles, cans, & containers could begin taking up too much of our space. Typically we'd have this recycling stashed in the back of the minivan just behind the middle row of seats, which was the last row of seats while we'd be on our vacation trips - since we'd use that final large gap - which the official last row of seats missing - for our much needed cargo space. Remember the totes from this post?

Nowadays it's common, rather it's expected, that, headed to a park, & many a campground, you're going to see a black receptacle for the trash, & to its side, a blue receptacle for everyone's recycling needs. Similar to these, though possibly on a smaller scale.

Our family didn't get into composting in the same way. Whenever we'd have apple or pear cores from all of Dad's fruit trees that lined the backyard, they got tossed into the general trash.  That is, unless any of us happened to be in the backyard, pulled fruit from its place on the tree, & ate the fruit while remaining in the backyard. Then that core would just get chucked over the hill which sat at the base of the backyard, immediately following the family shed.

This also reminds me of a funny story from when recycling was first introduced & our teacher in school instructed our class on how recycling worked; how it would be set up. And the introduction point was that recycling wouldn't mean that we'd be separating out all of our garbage; that we wouldn't be separating our banana peels & placing them separately...Then the teacher explained which types of items did match a recyclable profile. Now that I'm writing this I'm beginning to think that teacher might just have been a composter. 😂

Dad composts a lot now & happens to have a rather full receptacle for this purpose. He has a composting bin that looks exactly like this one. He especially likes that material gets inserted cleanly from the upper section & is easily retrievable from the bottom section, at the doorway. Though their weekly recycling receptacles are also quite full & overflowing as well. 😄

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Camp Store Candy

On a particular weeklong camping trip Mom gave me quarters periodically. She knew that I biked all around the grounds & that I spent time in the camp's store - where there was candy. The first few times she gave me a quarter, or fifty cents. Each time I would go over to the store, pick out my favorite, or a few favorites, put them in one of these, which I'd have with me, then go & bike around some more or head on back to the site. I'd either indulge right away, or sometimes I'd be able to distract myself & be involved in something else for a while first. It was a rarity.

I'd go for anything sweet without even thinking about it. I've never been much for the pure sugar items such as these, these or these, these, these, these, these, or these.  Besides they all just get caught between teeth & in molars causing cavities.

Not that my preferences didn't cause cavities. These were my absolute favorites & this was long before they developed their line, which has about a dozen options, from the *just one* with which I'd been completely content. These (because of their crunch), these, because to me, they had great similarity to these. These, these weren't manufactured yet, though they'd have been on my mental list to grab if they had been manufactured back then. These were probably the only thing I enjoyed grabbing, though not as often as the others, which didn't include some amount of either peanut butter, or chocolate, or both. Also, these, as it was all about the crunch.

There was a particular time when Mom indulged me in an entire roll of quarters all at once. It was mental Heaven for me - especially at that age - though it was a disaster at the camp store. I had great difficulty distracting myself; I believe I only indulged in maybe up to a third of that roll of quarters the first time I used it, though I most remember the sickening feeling, both the mental one & the physical one, after I'd thoughtlessly grabbed at all & any of so much that I didn't need, nor likely, deep down, cared for.

These habits stuck with me - for far too long. They haunt me still, much more than I'd like. It's probably why I do consider the moments from the past like this one - this camping trip - where I was granted a roll of quarters & then some. Why couldn't I've had the brilliant wisdom to just hold onto that roll of quarters & instead invest it? Why? I'll tell you why. Because I was that young & that innocent. And I was unknowing; I was following in the nurtured path of my childhood. And so that was that.

I'd not touch any of these items these days, though I've many a flash back & often a desire. I'd rather indulge myself in the bike ride back up the hill from the camp store to the campground's section designated for pop-up campers like ours. No protein, only processing; that's what I was indulging my quarters in. I didn't know what I didn't know. I know better now. Save the coins. Ten dollars adds up, just like Honest Abe advised to "Save a Penny, Earn a Penny".

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Hike Up a Hill

There's soup & then there's stew. Much like there's walking & then there's hiking. We began by hiking up the hill leading to our backyard. Dad had us helping out with building up the area. We were elementary school kids & finding the stones & rocks that could help build up the scene best. There was a pathway up the side, then we'd approach a finished section where there were planting boxes. Tomatoes, rhubarb, strawberries, & herbs...Plenty more grew in those spaces. Then we'd proceed up alongside the grassy section more (the section where good weather family gatherings would be set up, where we'd play this & this, & where we'd hang out our laundry to dry in the beautiful weather sunshine & breezes).

Maybe that's where from my adoration for hiking derived. There'd be a peaceful serenity in developing that area off the edge of our backyard. It was reflective space & time where we'd be wearing clothes meant for the project & we could relax. We'd be one with the elements. While hiking we most often were out of the sun as the trees guiding our paths would shelter us.

While we'd be camping there were many times when we'd go places (sometimes right on the campground's property) where we'd be able to pick which beaten path we wanted to follow along. When it hadn't just rained, these paths were extremely fun & exciting to follow along. Stumbling through tree roots & bizarre rock tips (which sometimes would be too slippery & rather unsafe whenever it had just rained) quickly became a welcome challenge of my childhood. Dad would often help us kids find tree limbs which we'd custom into walking sticks. At that age we'd use them regardless of whether or not we actually needed them; they were simply fun to use & have along. If they became impractical or annoying in any way, it was a luxury that we'd be able to toss them aside & discard them along the way just as quickly as we'd picked them up.

These days there's options like this or this, or any of these. Not everyone wishes to have the most rugged hiking experience, though like many similar activities, a glory of hiking is being able to make each experience unique & justifiably as each individual wishes theirs to be.

I've been craving going camping; I've also been craving going on a hike. Some might ask, "What defines 'going on a hike'?" I definitely do not define my hikes by "hiking" up a hill in a neighborhood. Rather, definitely not in a suburban neighborhood. Country road neighborhoods are on a different scale. And I've a feeling those local to those type of neighborhoods wouldn't consider their streets to be of hiking material.

I think of going to parks as places to hike. There are plenty of parks which cater to various purposes & many of them have an extensive line up of beaten as well as unbeaten hiking paths. Then there are state parks too.

I think of a paved street in American suburbia as going on a walk. After all, there's soup, & then there's stew. 😊😏😉😂

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On Keeping Things Dry When It Starts Raining

It is raining. Yet again, it is raining. It's rained for weeks straight & then it's rained some more. Somehow in the midst of all of the rain, on a singular sunny day (that was forecasted to be cloudy) I managed, with a tube of this in the car, to get way too much sun. Sitting in my car, waiting for the sun to go behind the clouds & become that forecasted cloudy day. I do so good in the Springtime; I consider the rays & plot out my outside time well according to the time of the day. Once the seventh month of the year strikes, my brain switches too. Like the first weekend of August last year when I earned myself a sunburn on the upper portion of my body while wearing a strapless sundress sitting underneath a tree in a friend's front yard as her family held a yard sale.

Sometimes I think these rainy days were the type of camping days when Mom & Dad decided we were best to get a camper versus continuing to camp only in our family tent. Camping in the tent on rainy days meant watching the edges of the underside portion to be sure that all of our fabrics weren't nearby. Oftentimes we'd have our sleeping bags too close to the bends & folds of tent's base. These were the times we'd need to be certain & pull everything back about five or so inches. We'd have these & the edges of these sitting along the tent's sides. Mom would remind us that we weren't going to want any part of these wet when we'd be sleeping. It was up to us kids to scoot about the tent's interior & "mad man" style prepare the area for the oncoming water. Mom would instruct us as soon as water appeared to be imminent, yet there were many a time when there would hardly be a sprinkle or two prior to the downpour.

Dad would be hustling about in the small space surrounding the picnic table. Though we'd have the family's cooler (which stayed in the minivan overnight to keep the groundhogs from helping themselves 😁), as well as all of the cooking apparatus sitting in a line on the ground with the apparatus items in cardboard boxes in so that it wouldn't be sitting directly atop the campsite's ground. He, most likely, would have been working to prep the next family meal, or at least to get it organized. Mom would've been directing all of the traffic.

We had one of these, which helped a lot. It kept away the bees, mosquitoes, flies & more. When the sides were zipped with the plastic in place, the rain stayed out too, though having plastic for walls created a heat problem & if the rain had come around as Mother Nature's way of decreasing humidity, which wouldn't happen instantly, the air both inside & outside could get very uncomfortable. And the campground's pool would be closed during the rain.

And visiting the bathhouse & toilets while it rained at a campground...Well, that's synonymous to driving through the neighborhood's of a major city when its sports teams have a playoff or finals game: it's very much vacant. The reasoning is different; well, unless it's raining during the sports games too, then everyone is trying to be out of the weather & under a roof. 😂

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Something Else to do While Camping

Also in that bag of tricks, from this post, would have been at least one of these. Most likely, several of them. These were my childhood, so were these, & these. Really any from the appropriately aged rack section. After I worked my way through these, I began plowing through these. For some reason I never even heard of these, & therefore never had the chance to long for them.

Reading & books were what my childhood was made of. We held paper & spines & (at least for me 😂) tried really hard not to crease anything & mess it up. I didn't like anything out of place. Though most of the library's books were hard back & already had their spines broken plenty. I was a slow reader & still am. Though a beauty of reading was, & still is, that each paragraph, each page, can be read as slowly, or as quickly, as the reader needs to for their own, personal comprehension.

I would kick back, often poised on my stomach, with my legs up in the air, entwined in one another. And I would just keep on turning the page. Page after page. And suddenly, I'd have finished reading another from my stack.

This one is one that I specifically remember reading while camping; I remember reading it while riding in the family minivan, our source of transportation while on the road with the camper, it having the hitch attached to it & all.

That summer the minivan was particularly struggling & we'd have to add coolant at certain intervals. A memory of mine, for some reason, ended up being of me reading this. I think it's because my eye sight took a turn in the school year following this summer break & I then tested in need of eyewear. I'd remembered my complications with focusing on the book's print while reading it, while riding in the minivan. I'm sure that it was all meant to be, although at first I often did "blame" my having read while the minivan was in motion as a direct relationship to my failed vision.

I continued reading plenty while on our family camping trips, although I stuck much more toward reading at the campsite or while waiting on the family to finish something; while we'd be in line somewhere (much as many people scroll through their smartphones today).

And though my reading seemed to directly impact my vision at the time, my vision became that of nearsightedness, & I began my prescription for seeing things far away, not for "readers".

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Color Me a Wheel

Our family definitely took to the more sedentary vacationing activities (unless we were sightseeing) than we did the activities where we'd actually be active. We never headed to the beach together either. If it was to be a day of "sitting around the campsite", which meant we'd be doing with our time whatever we bothered to do (except at meal time! 😂).

There were plenty of things, some spontaneous, some not so much, that we had along with us, which we'd tinker with & enjoy. I'd have things packed in this. I typically took to chilling out inside the camper, back in the section where I most frequently slept, on the smaller of the pop-up camper's two slide out beds. Although one sedentary activity I remember taking part in were these.

They weren't "the rage" back then (I'm not even sure they're a current rage), though, along with these, I could sit & enjoy picking a color & creating lines & filling in the spaces, & it was a therapy without thinking about therapies. And then I could pick another color & decide what looked best next to it. And, as Mom would call it, I'd be "in my glory".

There wasn't a wall or a fridge (at least not one with magnets) on which to display these masterpieces. And, I was technically far past the age for that type of acknowledgement. I'd say that in these days I was subconsciously developing my artistic design skills. After all, I was already tinkering around with these & this. I'd most likely have had these in this as well as this. Picking which color should go next, which shades looked best together & why, has always been a satisfying delight of mine. Muted shades together, pastels (my personal fav!) together. Brights together. The list is endless.

I'd enjoy teaming up the various colors & basically have reasons why certain ones should follow suit - one after the other. If I'd used green, then I might think to use red next for the holiday spirit, then I'd be thinking about other holidays & probably have some white, then blue. After that, with orange being blue's complimentary color, (& that green is the complimentary color for the red), I'd likely pick those colors in a line-up to keep that complimentary color theme.

I'd be coloring & I'd be calm. I'd be designing & I'd be creating.

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We've a Bag for That

There are always bags in the back seat & trunk of my vehicle; that's just how it is. Fabric bags of varying shapes, sizes, & colors, durability, & sustainability. This habit has been with me for decades & may have had its early beginnings all the way back to our camp trip days. Mom found that using bags helped organize & situate our things best. A specific moment I remember with Mom was being asked to get the "blue bag" out of the closet. I did, yet the one I snagged wasn't the exact "blue bag" she had had in mind. When she saw it she had a mixture of delight & sadness as she expressed her words in much the same way telling me that getting that bag out of the closet might've been the best thing I'd done that day. And then she rebounded by telling me which things that needed to make our trip that I should go proceed to load into that "blue bag".

For instance, our clothing totes from this post, weren't built with space in them for shoes either for our varying outfits, or for the slight variation of our activities. Which, even if we didn't have many variable activities, Mom & Dad have always been firm advocates of not wearing the same shoes two days (or too many days) in a row. Therefore, having multiple pairs of shoes for each of us became an absolute must. This meant cause for a bag for that. And that we did. There was one, of rather flexible fabric, with a drawstring finish by something close to a clothesline's rope. So basically, one of these, the size of three, cause it was big, really big. Sized enough for a pair of shoes for each of us to wear to church, to be wearing for rugged activity, & maybe a spare or two depending on what we owned & what was expected of this trip.

One of our "blue bags" was actually very much a turquoise bag. Bag, or as some may call them, a soft-sided padded lunch box. Basically, one of these, just a solid turquoise. This was our, on the road, family medicine bag. Some items inside were standard; the rest were items Mom would make sure & top off the open area between the tops of the bottles & where the fabric lid's flexibility would allow for zipping up closure by grabbing them from other areas of the linen closet. Maybe a spare toothbrush, some of this & this. She'd definitely make sure we had plenty of these, this, & this. The first for all our kid wounds & splinters, etc., the last for cleansing those areas, along with this (once we'd have manufacturer's coupons for the ointment, so that we wouldn't be paying full price for it), & the other because if any ailments came along that needed a deep rub in, Dad was good at this, enjoyed it, & typically it was Mom who'd be looking for it - for Dad to apply.

Lots of other random bags, like these & these, because we never knew when we'd be stopping somewhere & the store, or roadside stand wouldn't be one to offer customer's plastic bags for their purchase. Either bring your own, or pay up. Mom & Dad preferred to come prepared, & that they certainly did.

This habit has served me well & I've taken quite a bit to it. Over the years I've tended to notice a variety of bags which could assist me in my travels, so I tend to just stow them in the back - the way back in the trunk, or just in the backseat, depending on their level of potential importance. Some places offer minor discounts for bringing bags along to take away purchased treasures. Others require you to bring your own or pay a small fee to use one of theirs. And sometimes it's just helpful to have them along; they can be like safety pins. Not too difficult to have on hand, & never a regret for having had on hand.

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Scents Be Gone Camping

As I wrote about here, I've come to learn that certain products can be really great for purposes other than their conventional form. Sometimes, though, by using them in their conventional form, they don't do so well for the user while camping. Case in point, this! Well, anything with scent, really; these too.

Once upon a time I tried out the whole being a Girl Scout thing. I mention this because, after having camped for, well, how many years with my family??? {A LOT} - The troop I'd joined scheduled a Friday through Sunday camping trip. My adolescence was in high drive as we attended a meeting of things to bring along & not bring along. One of those things we were encouraged to not bring was anything with a scent. I innocently raised my hand & asked if that meant I shouldn't bring along any of this. The answer the adults gave was a kind smile & shake No of their heads. The "lead" girls ecstatically retorted, "Not unless you want the bugs kissing you!" 😙😝

Many would consider either of these products to be "high maintenance" & completely unnecessary to have & to use while on any camping trip. It's true though, many bugs, especially those which come out as the moon rises, tend to favor certain scents like those produced by these products. I don't think I really gave much thought about it while on that Girl Scout Trip, or while attending this preliminary meeting because our family didn't use "products" while camping; we hardly used them when back at our house! The closest we'd get to using scented products, especially while camping, would be the scent in the dish detergent from when we'd be scrubbing our dishes after a meal. Remember this?

It's true. If a camper is in a more rustic area than a modern, or conventional one, then they're due to encounter such things. Even a scented deodorant can turn the right bug's nose headed toward an uninterested armpit.

I really don't remember if I did end up including these in my overnight bag for that Girl Scout trip, or not. What I do remember is experiencing camping in a cabin for the first time, & being around a bunch of girls my own age for such an extended period of time, while many of them were being rambunctious & rowdy & just plain over-the-top. I gave being a Girl Scout a try; that camping cabin trip was far from what ended my days of being a Scout. The gatherings didn't really fit my schedule; the experience was becoming more stressful & wearisome than enjoyable, productive, & educational.

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Eat When the General Eats

And Dad is the general. His mom gave him that "title". It had nothing to do with the concept of eating while camping, however. Mom & Dad were focused on being organized & making sure that everyone had their proper energy; that no one starved. This posting could also be subtitled, "It's All About the Food." Because that's Mom & Dad's general motto.

They also didn't do much while we vacationed, or while we didn't, to promote activity, or "being active" - other than household chores like laundry, grass cutting, mulch laying, weeding, moving furniture to rearrange the house, & the like.

It was a surreal blessing that we'd become so enamored with book reading & constantly wrapping ourselves in more of the Young Adult bookshelves at every local library. We were also able to take this with us to camp, as we'd load up our allotment of space in the minivan with a pile we hoped to complete before returning to the family driveway.

Supposedly it'd be brain food then. Because eating was an all-important thing we were to be sure & do, & Dad, for whatever reason it became, typically organized all our meals, set up at our campsite, or when we'd head out to a restaurant while we vacationed.

Since we didn't do much in the way of activity, unless very light activity like a few laps of something in the campground's pool, we weren't necessarily ready, or hungry, for a meal. We rarely "exhausted" ourselves to the point where diving (no pun intended! 😂) into a meal was truly necessary, it's just something that we'd automatically do. Over the years it'd become more ingrained in us to know that we'd be eating a breakfast, a lunch, & a dinner - each day. Sometimes our lunches would be simple enough & include these topped with random meat & cheese of our preference (from whatever was in the camping fridge).

I'd become a fan of these & soon Mom was buying them on a routine basis, especially during the school year because I'd basically take two packets of them, along with, maybe an apple, & that would be my school lunch meal for the day - basically every day. Though I ate them when we'd be camping too, so we had them along on the trip. Dad was open to eating everything, so it wasn't like we had them on hand just for me (because we didn't).

We had these around for whenever we'd have soup. I believe it was Mom who began the two-packets-crushed-in-the-package-tear-then-dump-in-the-soup-bowl tradition. We kids followed suit; it worked, creating just the right amount of thickened broth & richness we desired.

These, as well as these, were used most often for the mini sandwiches. And these, as well as these, were staples that we'd have around both at our house & at camp; Mom would load up on them whenever they were on sale & we'd clipped the manufacturer's coupons because we devoured them early & often in our family. They were convenient, quick snacks as well as meal companions.

These Mom would buy because between everyone in the family, we'd be certain to find a variety to keep us content. They were a great "quick snack" filler whenever we'd consider we might be ready for a meal, yet we weren't quite to the restaurant (or even finding where the restaurant was located on the paper map), or that Dad was just beginning to pull out the cookware at the campsite to prepare what would become our family meal, & our stomachs would be growling.

The whole lot of them were quick & convenient to use in our daily lives no matter if we were at work, school, camp, or just at the house. I've since gotten away from eating these sorts of foods as they are processed & purposefully salty & I try to stick with eating mainly "farm foods". Though I also try to incorporate much more actual activity in my day as well & "listen to my body" as far as to know that I might actually be hungry or that my body is just utilizing some of my previously stored energy.

It's a learning curve, a true balance to incorporate & understand as we gain the wisdom these years bring upon us. I accept that Mom & Dad still truly believe in eating in these same ways; I simply do not.

And there's absolutely nothing that's wrong with that.

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She Embarrassed Me

And it would be far from the last time she would. Yes. My mother embarrassed me. Some may say that's her job. I'll be the judge of that. 😂

Showering while camping was always a complex situation. As described here our family had a rhythm, & within that rhythm I had one of my own. Usually it was to just go & get it done & over with. Dirt & germs were always in question. Would any of my things touch something which I'd rather they not touch?

I don't remember a time when our family didn't camp. In fact this incident may have been from when we still camped in a tent, before we had our pop-up camper.

Mom would head over to the toilet/shower building with me &, if we needed to wait in line for the stalls, she'd let me go first; otherwise I'd be awkwardly waiting around for someone to finish up while she showered. Besides, if I went first & then she quickly did, we'd basically be in the building together. I'd call out to her when I'd finish up that much quicker (which is most often how it happened to be) & she'd know I'd be on a direct path on back to the campsite where Dad would be prepping our family breakfast or getting ready to head out on the road if we were on a sightseeing camp trip & breakfast would be after we left the campground. It was also basic keeping-track-of-our-young-child behavior - so I'd not be "snagged" by someone other than our family.

This particular morning Mom paid too much attention. There were a number of women waiting to shower after us; when I stepped into the shower stall I knew of at least three women in line. I began my "routine". A bench sat right inside & at least one metal hook was screwed into the stall's wall directly above; I began hanging my things up & sorting my stuff out.

I turned on the shower's water after figuring out the dial. I began leaning in & wetting my hair. I don't remember how old I was, though I know I had plenty of thick, dark hair. And I began the process of being in a foreign space, where I wasn't certain of my surroundings, just trying to manage as I could & suddenly, out of nowhere, I hear my mother's voice exclaim, "YOU CAN STEP INTO THE SHOWER!!!" {snicker, snicker, giggle, giggle} That's the line-up of ladies awaiting a shower giggling at me. Oh my. It's my shower. It's my awkward space. It's my private time. And there my mother is criticizing my cleanliness skills.

I still find certain camp shower stalls rather uninviting. The ones with lots of large, dark & ugly, uninviting ceramic tiles, as well as the ones with dull dark brick to be difficult to really use. I basically get in them & completely focus on just getting done & out of there. Some of the stalls are designed so that there's a "floor wall", or a lip around the base of the shower separating the shower itself from where the camper's belongings go; that's the sort of set up at this campground where Mom said these magic words.

Other campgrounds had a tile drain where they'd angle the flooring so that the floor was essentially all the same between where the camper's bench & metal hanging hooks would be & where the shower head would be; only the shower curtain would stand between then. These I preferred. I found them more inviting & easier to adjust & manage my routine within.

As much as we camped, Mom & Dad always had our family keep to every basic hygienic routine & normality. Even when we'd come back from a long day of sightseeing (where I'd lie occasionally) we were to brush our teeth (we had these & these) & use the toilet before crawling in our sleeping bags atop the pop-up camper mattresses. I'd be too worn out to get aboard that idea & would just hold it all the better. I've a stronger bladder to this day for it! 😂 And brushing my teeth, well I just decided to manage without for that night (& whatever other nights I'd get to being that lazy. After all I *was* at camp & on vaca!).

Then again, some say that at the heart of a good & real camping trip is a camper who skips showering all together. That's a train I could definitely get aboard!

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Reserving a Spot on the Street - Camp Style

These are popular on busy streets where on-street parking is at a premium, or when there’s to be a parade, or other special event. Many a driver has simply wanted a place to park their vehicle only to approach a residential street & see the one or two remaining spaces taken up by one. A back-of-the-mind eye roll, a squinting of the eyes, & a shrug of the shoulders 😖, knowing it's hopeless to consider moving them (neighborhood trouble could ensue), & then it's time to move along & try for a spot in the next block or two.

Our family used them for additional seating whenever we’d have backyard gatherings, & we’d use them whenever we’d be camping. Sometimes they’d accompany us as the final item we’d be smooshing inside the minivan’s rear door as we pulled the door down from up above. Other times we’d place them right inside the slider door. In those days minivans only had a slider door on the passenger side. Our cooler for the trip would also be wedged in right in this same space.

In some ways having these there was super convenient. If we’d need to make a pit stop & needed to sit down somewhere without concern that our clothes would be dirtied by an unkempt appearing bench, we’d be able to quickly pull out one of these & we’d all set.

Once we’d be at camp they’d become super handy; we’d otherwise be stuck constantly wedging ourselves onto the picnic table’s benches, & oftentimes they’re all attached – that is, the table’s benches right to the table. Then the benches cannot be moved or shifted, & swinging one’s legs around & under can require, well, work. And who wants any of that while they’re on their vacation! 😂

We'd sprinkle about those which we'd brought with us, about four or five, & whichever of us would be looking to relax while outside the camper would have first dibs on which they'd prefer to open up & plop down in. (Some might say that's the only way to be sitting in one of these [this link is directly to that which closest matches the design our family used] - having plopped down in it. 😂) We knew which was which because each had a different pattern on it & one or two were far more worn than the others. We'd typically not use those unless necessary, which meant that we'd had a guest arrive, or had more people with us on our trip than we normally did. In those cases Mom would designate someone smaller, or much lighter weight to take the troubled chairs & allow the others to use the reliable ones.

Incidentally I hardly ever used one as, unless we'd all be outside, I typically didn't do much sitting out there. Though being the low-man-on-the-totem-pole [read: youngest & smallest] on the trip, it would've been me getting booted from the stronger, more durable ones & into those which were sketchy & untrustworthy. I'd use it most as described here. When we'd eat our meals outside, we'd use the campground provided picnic table & benches. When I was most frequently outside the camper, I was on-the-move, or on a mission (for example as I wrote about here); I'd be out-&-about, or inside the fabric walls.

We used ours for years & years, &, as written about here, Mom would pull out her Bag of Talents 😊 & repair the existing paneling. This cycle repeated itself at least once.

Now-a-days these seem to have become much more popular. They’re easier to carry & each comes with a bag where the handle straddles conveniently over its back while in use in so that everything is kept together for when the user is ready to go, & put everything away, & back in their vehicle for the next event.

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An Adolescent Organizes for Camp

When we'd go camping there's one staple I typically had with me: one of these, specifically one a lot like this, of course mine would have been blue 😉, at least a little bit blue. It might be one that I'd been using during the previous school year; it might be one from year's ago. It's where I kept everything. And I mean *EVERYTHING*. I'd often toss things in on a completely "just in case" basis. Oftentimes a craft project I'd been dilly-dallying on & wanted to continue tinkering with while away, would become one of the items. I'd throw in one of these. Do people still use them? {asks rhetorically} Something, for sure, that are down in sales, sort of like these, if not them, definitely these. I always had great difficulty with using them, moreover, with wearing them as my skin would quickly become agitated from the moisture build-up & sweat soon after I'd have it on.

I might throw in whatever concept of a pad of paper for a "journal" that I might have thoughts I wish I could have jotted down. Completely random things like paperclips, safety pins, some pencils, some pens, a rubber band or two might make their way into the tiny pocket on the front flap. Oftentimes just whatever I'd have loose around the top of my bedroom desk & maybe off my dresser too. After all, these were my "go to" items, that I kept at-the-ready in my room at the house - if ever I should need them, they'd still be all ready to go sitting right there next to the fridge in one of these.

One year I learned that this was an inherited "habit" as I kept it in the back corner of the pull out bed I'd sleep on, right next to the fridge. I'd recently walked out of the camper & was dilly-dallying about something at our camp site. Suddenly I heard Mom call out, "Does anyone have a rubber band?" Ok, so I don't exactly remember what the item was that she called out, though I believe it was a rubber band. She was helping someone repair something & diagnosed that a rubber band, or whatever it was, should do the trick.

She also knew that I had this sitting there. She didn't know exactly what all I had in it. {Shaking my head} I didn't even know what all I'd managed to mush between the vinyl & close together via the zipper. Though I was pretty certain I had one of what she requested. And I loved to help; I loved assisting & being able to be there. To have the answer; the ITEM. And I did.

She explained that she didn't want to call me out; that, as we could tell soon after, there weren't that many options around of who could help out. There were maybe five people at the camp site when she called out her request.

She didn't want to put me on the spot & that's why she asked, "Does anyone...?" She knew what I had: lots of knick-knacks & random things, which I did. She knew because it's the same sort of stuff she'd made sure to have along on trips when she'd been my age.

I'd never been good with having Mom "figure me out". She wanted to know her kids; I preferred being unique. Though I preferred more than anything to help solve issues. And that's exactly what I did that day. Because I'd tossed in a few rather handy rubber bands.

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Cooling Off While Camping

One of these - a definite must in a pop-up camper. An a/c wasn't installed in our house until long after our college days began so, in our house we had these in each bedroom & a few set up in the living room & other rooms. Depending on how difficult the summertime heat & mugginess got, we'd swap what room we had them in for wherever we planned to be spending our time next.

After enough sweaty afternoons & nights in our pop-up, it became clear that, for when we'd camp anywhere with electricity, we needed to bring along at least one.

We'd sit it atop the camper dining table, which was booth-like. We'd leave it on rotating. That way it could cool us off, as it sat directly across from the camper's door, as we walked on inside as well as cool everything in its rotating wing span, which would stretch as far from the master bed pull out, right next to the dining table, all the way to the kitchenette (on the dining table's other side) to cool off the smaller slide out bed too.

We never got extravagant with any other special types of fans like this, this, or the one in the image's link. Mom would say we didn't need them & that we'd manage just fine with what we'd brought along from the house. Sometimes we kids would be encouraged to go check out the campground's swimming pool (should it have one 😏) whenever we might mention something about it being warm.

I can hear those old phrases now, "If you're that sweaty & uncomfortable the water in the pool should be warm then too; it'll cool ya right off. Go get your suit out & go check out the pool. It should be open for the day by now. Maybe you'll make a new friend while you're there." 😒

There was always intense eye rolling going on while Mom said all these things. She'd finish off my reminding me to not forget this. Which would often be after a bit of a pause & an extra smack of frustration. I never trusted that I'd put enough on, in all the right spots, or that it'd last long enough for as long as I'd be out in the sun. A sure cause for apprehension & anxiety, which is just the way it went based on how Mom would be talking to me & reminding me to do go & not miss any spots; I'd be overthinking it rather than being a kid about it.

She'd be right about the water though. The temperature would be more comfortable in the water. And I could usually entertain myself there for a long enough time, swimming on my back & kicking away at my legs (my favorite swimming style 😊).

Yes, an a/c or a dishwasher (other than kid chores 😒), on the list of things we never saw in that house until it basically wasn't our address anymore. Seems that we might as well have been camping while we were at our house 😏.

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