Camping

So...I'm going to be camping for the next five days. If you know me, you know I don't really enjoy camping. Perhaps it's because you have to take your ENTIRE house with you when you go. Aren't you supposed to be getting away from home not taking it with you? Not to mention all the work that camping entails. Really...it's not a vacation. A vacation is going to a hotel with room service at my fingertips in another country. Someone to wait on me hand and foot. Somewhere I don't have to cook. Somewhere with a large body of water, not just a swimming pool. Okay, so where we go camping has two out of the three- Fort Bragg, near the ocean. Yes, if you've been there you know what I'm talking about. If you haven't, just know that it is spectacular. There is just something about the ocean that is calming yet so energizing at the same time. It's really just a gamut of emotions. I LOVE IT. So here's the deal we got going. We camp with some really great friends and their families, it's near a large body of water, and I don't have to cook. Yes, you heard me right. I....DON'T...HAVE...TO....COOK. Our friend cooks for EVERYONE. EVERY MEAL people. And it's not just so-so food. Ir's really good food! So, really, what do I have to complain about? Well, I may have to chain Zak to a tree this year, there will be sand in my bed and every other crevice, and it's cold. But, I have to say, the pros FAR outweigh the cons. And when we get up the cash to buy a tent-trailer, (which I hear is the only way to camp, or if you have a fancy trailor, or really anything ABOVE GROUND) camping will actually be a vacation.

I really am looking forward to going and hopefully I can get some pics that I can share. Until then,

Ta-Ta!!

Something New

In enrichment night, many weeks ago, there were some excellent talks given on family history and journaling. And really, the two go hand in hand if you think about it. As part of the evening, every sister was handed a jar with a bunch of folded up paper in it. I promptly took it home and stuck it up in my closet. Now, this is not to say that I didn't like the idea, which I'll get to in a second, or that I didn't like the talks on Family History, because I did. In fact, that was probably the first time that I actually LIKED a family history discussion. It's just that I couldn't be bothered with something else. Sometimes there's just so many GREAT ideas that it's overwhelming to me. Much like the internet. However, there were some really awesome ideas presented that night. And one of them is this jar, with folded paper in it.

Doug saw 'said jar' in the closet, brings it out, and says "what is this?", like I'd grown two heads suddenly. (He just knows all the fun little projects I start but don't seem to finish.) I explained to him this: the jar is full of ideas to talk about in a personal journal. Each slip of paper is supposed to start you off thinking and then putting it on paper. I actually like this idea! Since this is the only thing I write in, or on, or at, however you want to interpret blogging, I figured that I would start doing one of these 'ideas' a day. Okay, maybe not EVERYDAY, but frequently. I'm actually hoping everyday, but one shouldn't get too immersed in something, especially if one is like me and only does things halfway. In my defense, however, I am getting better. Being in my 30's has really helped. Seriously!!

Okay, so I'm going to call this "Journal Jar Prattle." If you'd like to read what I've written, feel free, if not, you'll know to avoid all posts starting with this title. So here goes...

I'm drawing right now...


Wait, I don't want to start with that one.

Okay, here's a good one. Oh and I forgot to mention, I'm going to try to go through
the bulk of these. I know, that may take forever, and it might be slightly boring, but my posterity will LOVE IT. (They BETTER love it.) It says...

"What activities (sports, music, dance, etc.) did you participate in while you were growing up? What were some experiences with this activity?

WEELLLL... Not many. I am sad to say that there really wasn't that many. I look back and think I should've been more daring and brave and put myself out there, but the sad truth is, I didn't. But here's what I did do. Obviously, piano is the 'something' I stuck to by far the longest, and that is solely due to my mother who wouldn't let me quit when I was not wanting to take lessons. She'd say, "you'll thank me when you're older." I honestly didn't think I would. I HATED lessons. I wanted to play what I wanted to play, and as I got older, that happened, but as a student learning, there are certain things you have to do to get better. Now that I teach, my perspective has COMPLETELY done a 180. Funny how that happens as one gets older. And you know what? She was right. I bet she's longed to hear those words from me. I do thank her, with all my heart. I get so much enjoyment out of music and being able to play an instrument for my own pleasure. I play when I'm happy and when I'm stressed I play too. Sometimes you don't want to be around when I'm stressed. It tends to get VERY LOUD.
I also really enjoyed playing volleyball, and I played on the church team for years. We actually went to state a couple of times. When you play for this type of genre, everybody makes the team, so it was safe for me. But I was pretty good, not to stretch my ego at all, but I was pretty decent. Not so much now though. But I wish I would've tried out in High School. Again, too afraid. I regret that now, and that could be why I'm always encouraging my girls to do things in spite of their fear. And you know what? They do! And they are so proud of themselves afterwards.
I also played basketball as well, but we won't talk about that. Oh, and softball too. But we won't talk about that either.

I wanted to take dance, but my mother thought I was better suited for the piano. I don't know if she was correct or not, but I think I have pretty good rhythmn. I wish that I would've been able to at least try.

Of course, I was always involved with church activities and camps. Good times we had. I used to be somewhat of a closet prankster. Secretly I always wished I'd had the cahones to do what I thought up. One year at girls camp, I think I was about 16, my close friends and I all slept in one tent. I'd brought my "getto blaster" (so cracking up having used that word!!) and had armed it with fresh batteries. As we got settled into our sleeping bags for the night, and the camp got quiet, I had this idea come to me. I had brought along my Bon Jovi tape. Yes TAPE. CD's weren't invented then. At least I don't think so. Anyway, I was a HUGE Bon Jovi fan, and in fact still am. I wouldn't mind seeing them in concert still to this day. But I digress. I whispered to my tent mates that I thought it would be funny to play, "Shot through the Heart" as loud as we could and scare all the other people around us. I thought this would be tremendously funny, as did the co-pranksters in the tent. So we did it. All was quiet. It was pitch black. Not one flashlight within a 50 yard radius. You could hear the crickets chirp. Suddenly, Bon Jovi's voice rang through loud and clear through the woods: "Shot through the Heart, and you're to blame. Darling, you give loooove, a BAD NAME." All three of us starting laughing so hard we were hiccuping. And you know what? NOBODY SAID A THING. Nope, not one word. Yeah, we may have heard a couple of snickers, but nothing else. I look back on that and I think of the trouble we used to cause our poor leaders. They probably just didn't want to deal with us. Either that or they found it intensely amusing but didn't want to give us the satisfaction. I'll never know.

Well, I've waxed eloquent enough for one evening. You probably didn't even get through this entire post. You probably looked at it and thought, that's too lengthy. I'll just skip it. Well,shame on you if you did. You missed some excellent reminisces. Just excellent.

(I'll try to keep it shorter. But for those of you who know me, you know that's virtually impossible. But I'll sure try!)