C is for Camping

The cacophony (noun meaning harsh, jarring sound) of thunder rattled through the campgrounds this past weekend, and yet I was not bothered. Water soaked into my last pair of dry shoes and pants, yet I was happy as a lark. I was camping! Well, sorta camping...with the 'Rents' new PUMA, it's more like bringing the house with you for an extended picnic. Beds, central heat, refrigerators, and air conditioning make camping these days quite a bit more pleasant than the tent pitching of yester year.

I do have to say though, one of the best camping trips I can remember was the year Daddy bought me my own pup tent and I could have my own space...less than 10 feet from the big tent, just in case. Another memorable trip would be in 2000 when sister, brother, sil, and I slept in the bed of Gayla's truck on a beach in Corpus. Sister-in-law taught us the Girl Scout way of making hot dogs in the sand and baking biscuits in a box (sand in every mouthful). There was also the year when I was beginning school that we lived at the creek in a trailer...Mama or Daddy had to check outside the camper for snakes before we could get in the car to head to school.

Skipping rocks and trout fishing at Bull Shoals. Owls on a string of lights. The ten different ways the Good Sams could take Christmas lights and solo cups to make a Red Neck Chandelier. Hot dogs on the fire, s'mores for dessert, and trying to teach Sosie how to cook over an open flame. Some of my happiest memories happened around a camp fire.