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Your Friday prompt for Stream of Consciousness Saturday is โ€œpad.โ€ Use it as a noun, use it as a verb, use it any way youโ€™d like. Have fun!
Right air mattresses, not my body!

But for the pad beneath my well padded body I could have slept so much better.

~~~~

A couple of years ago I bought my family enough air mattresses, tents, and sleeping bags that we could have gone camping a few times. But I seemed to be the only one trying. So I was glad my friend was brave and invited me on her camping adventures.

When my brother and I were kids, our parents took us on 3 weeks of camping every year. We didn’t realize then what a sacrifice it was for them. Dad never took a day off work saving up the time. Mom scraped every penny, and then her sacrificed her health as she packed and stored camp foods then directed the Tetris of car packing. All of that had her nervous tummy upset and dying between gas station restrooms.

Speaking of penny pinching… Mom never let us have much sugar. As much as she could be in the 50s and 60s she was health minded. So a way to control both money spent on junk food, she’d allow us to gather empty coke bottles to turn in at the general store near camp and with that money we could buy candy bars or chips

Anyway, we had air mattresses at first. Just those kinds you can paddle around the lake to float on. They held up to the fun, but invariably all the air was gone by morning cold and I’d be sleeping on rocks. My padding was not thick enough then, either.

So this was my second camping trip with my friend. The air mattresses and blowing up process didn’t coordinate properly for me, so I couldn’t close off the escape of air on time. So I little enjoyed the rocky sea of a half inflated mattress, falling off, or finding it impossible to get up to standing. Finally, I emptied it. I assumed flat on the ground would be better.

But with a Target 10 minutes away, we looked for other necessities. I found a mattress topper that could later be used by my husband on his home hospital bed to keep him from slipping when sitting up in the bed.

This proved the perfect pad. I slept well–except the new campers kept us awake until 3. Our previous camping neighbors were a family group far larger and were fun and minded the 10 pm quiet time rules.

Today I napped a lot, my own bed. Nap pad.๐Ÿค—

One-Liner Wednesday


Much owling makes wormy birds. (Sorry the picture didn’t load. I’ll try to fix that this weekend.) Cold nights on an air mattress make me grumpy.

A part of Linda’s One-Liner Wednesday

I wrote this on Tuesday morning. I didn’t sleep well. And this campsite being close enough to town that there’s a lot of traffic on the road below and the camp is full of early risers.

Tenting


Got the tent up. Now tired!

Your Friday prompt for Stream of Consciousness Saturday is โ€œsimple.โ€ Use it any way youโ€™d like. Enjoy!

Let me put this plainly. Getting older isn’t simple. I used to rearrange the furniture quite often. Getting ready for company took hardly any effort. I haven’t even started packing. I do have a list. Hopefully, because it is for camping, it’ll be simple.

Even so…


When I was a girl, I dreamed of shooting the curl. But alas I never learned to surf.

As a child my mother wanted me to have curly hair. She or my aunt gave me perms. Ugh! I hated it! And it took forever to grow out. It wasn’t so much curly as frizzy.

In sixth grade I had a thing for Shirley Temple. I used those pink sponge rollers, or mom would use rags to curl my hair into those ringlets. I loved Ms. Temples songs, shows, and dances.

From Curly Top

My teen years found me using coke, orange juice, or coffee cans as rollers as Cher straight hair was in. I couldn’t find pics, sorry.

A week after high school graduation I started cosmetology classes at the city college. We didn’t learn to use the hot roller. Or blow dryer. Or French braids. We learned pin curls, and finger waves. And pivot rollers. But I loved working with hair and meeting the nice ladies. Long hair was my favorite. Especially wedding looks. But, ugh, long days standing in one place had me in tears every night.
Yes. That’s my new goal. I’m not even curling those. I’m still on the purple ones that look like elongated hair curlers
A Milo pic. Just because. He curls up next to me at night. But stretches out on the cool floor in the heat of dog days.
Your Friday prompt for Stream of Consciousness Saturday is โ€œcurl.โ€ Use it as a noun, use it as a verb, use it any way youโ€™d like. Have fun!

Due to weather


I’m trying to stay off electronics. Be careful out there!๐Ÿค—

One-Liner Wednesday


How I feel about Milo

Goofy guy! De luxe!
A Linda G. Hill prompt play for One-Liner Wednesday.

Your Friday prompt for Stream of Consciousness Saturday is โ€œthat time.โ€ Use it any way youโ€™d like. Enjoy!

Remember that time we started laughing and couldn’t stop? Those moments of heightened laughter or deep tears are moments we connect our souls. Those times we car-karaoke until our throats sounded like we smoked all our lives are miracles in my life.

I’m horrid at small talk.ย  But those times we stay awake until the sun becomes up solving the problems of the world, or deep spiritual meshing. Gosh, I love times like that time.

One-Liner Wednesday


Found on Facebook by Word Nerd

Part of Linda’s One-Liner Wednesdays


Your Friday prompt for Stream of Consciousness Saturday is “sing.” Use it any way you’d like. Have fun!

One of my favorite things to do in life is to sing. All my life!

When I was a kid on the swing I was singing. My favorite swinging songs was To Dream the Impossible Dream.

I set up classmates to reinact the Wizard of Oz. Somewhere Over the Rainbow is still a favorite. I’m teaching myself a new version to play so I can sing with it later. In fact, Ash Grove, Beau Soir, Shilo, Just the Way You Are, God Bless the Child and Can’t Help Lovin’ Dat Man of Mine, among others are piano accomplishments I’m learning while I’m trying get my voice back. I’m doing the vocal warmups I learned in voice classes and lessons I took for a couple years.

Allergies are messing with my throat but I’m doing my best. I miss singing. I used to do solos in churches. I was terrified when I first started but I grew to love every minute of it. Whereas the piano playing with any audience made me feel I was going to die. But the singing would take me to another world.

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