Darswords

wood/would

wood/would wood/would

wood/would wood/would wood/would

There. Now that we’ve piled them up neatly we can start a good fire to keep us warm while we let our collective consciousness flow. Nice. Hot cocoa and marshmallows would be nice. But in all this imagining, I feel one consciousness. Everyone seems off on their own ventures so I guess this one is up to me. Pass the melty s’more? Please? Please? Please?

The empty echo reminded me that I may be one of the only folks in the world who has never had one of those yummy tidbits. Went camping with the family all of my childhood yet no one in my family had ever eaten one–at least back then. Now, with diabetes, I guess it is good no one is here to pass me one. They do sound decadent.

All this reminds me of those camping days. The family would go on three-week vacations. Mom saved up every penny and Dad saved up every bit of vacation time. I had a love-hate relationship with camping. I have memories of sitting up on the highest rocks with pencils, crayons, papers to draw on and lots of books. Those peaceful moments away from family were the best.

I have memories of sitting up on the highest rocks with pencils, crayons, papers to draw on and lots of books. Those peaceful moments away from family were the best.

Waking in the cold with the tiny pebbles eating their way through flattened blowup raft-bed, sleeping bag, and my very flesh. Not the best memory. Worse, waiting for the sun to warm the world enough to crawl out of the sleeping bag to make the mad rush to the stinky non-flushable toilet maddeningly painful.

Evening ranger talks and sing-a-longs with educational slides–wonderful! Daytime hikes with rangers to learn of local flora and fauna–Heavenly.

Dirty nails, dirty everything. Cold baths in the tent. Dragging heavy pails of water from the faucet that seemed miles away, getting to camp soaking wet from being splashed the whole way, then still having to wash dishes in the plastic container–Ugh!

Was it any wonder that by the time I was an adult I refused to camp unless there was an automatic dishwasher, washer, dryer, full bathroom facilities, comfy beds, etc.?

Still, I remember the time, BC (before children), that their father and I were forced to camp out under the stars. We got to camp too late to set up a tent.We zipped our sleeping bags together to make it cozy for the newlyweds we were. A biker had this campsite alone and he invited us to share his site. A little scary but he seemed nice. But the biker would prove to be the least of our worries.

As morning came around I heard bumping and crashing. An old pro at camping, I knew bears were looking for food. I was on my back looking up at the sky through the tree branches. Suddenly a big black nose was sniffing at my nose. I closed my eyes and hoped sniffing was all this brute was going to do. As soon as I felt the footsteps walking away, I nudged my husband and whispered, “Bear.”

No sooner had I said that there was a great big string of obscenities shouted as the biker woke to the same visitor. He scared the bear so much that the bear knocked everything off the table and cookstove and slid down the hill out of sight. The biker was pretty shook-up until he started laughing.

The bear had left a huge path of catsup, mustard, and other foods strewn all over then on either side of the bear butt prints all the way down the hill.

Good times! Let’s sing: The Bear Went Over the Mountain…

Now let’s recite:  How much wood would a woodchuck chuck… Ah, never mind.

Friday prompt for Stream of Consciousness Saturday and Just Jot It January is: “wood/would.” Use one, use both, use them any way you would like. Have fun!

Thank you, Linda G Hill for a fun January! Whoever would have thought I would get through a whole month of blogging daily?