Happy Trails!

Admittedly not my finest photographic effort, but here's a look at Dean from 7:30 this morning -- making final adjustments to his gear before packing up and heading out. He's going on a hiking trip on the Appalachian Trail in New Hampshire's White Mountains for 4 days and 3 nights, along with 9 classmates and 2 teachers from school. Although he has a "no-nonsense, and don't take too long taking this picture" look on his face, he was so eager to get going this morning.

If you've been along on the journey here for a while, you know that this is a pretty major breakthrough. Dean hasn't been interested in leaving home during the summers, preferring day camps and being at home. It was hard for me to accept this -- much as I adore him and having him at home -- because my summers were all spent at summer camps where I'd be for weeks, camping in the woods and miles away from home and I always felt he was missing out.

But in typical Dean fashion, when he's ready to do something he's all over it, and this was a perfect opportunity to go with an outdoor expert (one of his teachers is a certified Appalachian Mountain Club guide), with people he knows and trusts. I'm so proud of him, and am looking forward to his return home with all the stories he'll have to tell.

S'mores. We'll have s'mores for dessert when he gets home Friday night.

Perfection

This was Dean's last week of summer day camps; he finished out with chess camp, which he attended with his best friend Max. The week had included a tournament, with finals on the last day. They wondered if it would come down to this, and indeed Dean and Max had to play each other in the last game for the championship. The air in the room was NOT charged with tension at all; all the kids were thoroughly enjoying themselves, and each pair would glance around from time to time to see how the other games were going.
Contemplating their good fortune and offering up their trophies, with Max as the first place winner and Dean as second. Dean was utterly delighted with the outcome, and acknowledged that Max deserved to win for having played the better game. We went home for a celebratory lunch of hot dogs, with ice cream for dessert, and an afternoon of:
badminton on the front lawn. I seriously do not think it gets much better than this. We've been playing badminton as a family this weekend and look forward to more matches today. Skies are blue, temperatures are ideal, low humidity, cool breezes wafting through.
I love this picture of Dean and his cousin, Hallie, skipping rocks at the beach during a break at a recent family wedding.

We've got nearly a month until school starts, and are about as content as we can be. We're getting ready to take a little trip to celebrate Ken's 50th; oh, I'll have lots of pictures to post when we return!

Finishing up

I forgot to mention that yet another wonderful part of taking a trip on the Margaret Todd out of Bar Harbor is that you can help hoist the sails, if you'd like. Tall Ken on the left there helped twice and felt, I think, a little pirate-y as a result.
It didn't rain but it had rained that morning and was, as always, a little cold out on the water. They thoughtfully give you maps that show you the names of the islands you pass, and the other side helps to identify some of the birds you are likely to see.
I loved having our friends Ann and Rory over from Ireland to see us, and loved sharing more of Maine with them. There couldn't be any easier travel companions. But to be honest, it was hard for me sometimes and I made it hard for Dean. Traveling with people who don't have children alleviates the challenge of making sure the kids all get along, but I'm hyper sensitive to Dean's behavior under circumstances like these, and the reality for him is that he takes a back seat in a situation (vacation) that's normally pretty focused on him. It's a good learning experience at his age not to be the sole center of attention, but hard. And being with us meant that they ate dinner earlier than they normally would, that we went to bed while they were still up and raring to go, and that we tiptoed out to breakfast while they were still asleep. I do hope they had an all right time....

Doesn't look as though Dean minded too much though, does it? I hope he had an all right time, too. I think he did. The microscope of "am I a good parent" is intensified by close time, travel, with other people.

Sure, it is out of focus and over exposed (I even did quite a bit of Photo Shop work on it to get it looking this good). But it gives an even better view of what "home" looked like for 8 weeks every summer. Mosquito bites? You bet. I'm thinking about making a camp blog, in hopes of luring more Juniper Knoll alum, in anticipation of getting all kinds of camp experiences from all different kinds of camps and campers -- ok, I have to say it -- a virtual camp fire of songs, stories, marshmallows (b.y.o.). Would it work? Could I sustain it? Could it be my platform from which to shout my agenda for transforming the Girl Scout organization? Leo was nice enough to send me the 2006 Chicago Girl Scout Council annual report and I was appalled that they had room to be able to list everyone who donated $25. Appalled because their level of donations received is so ridiculously low. Oh, sure, encouraged that an old time Juniper Knoll devotee gave many significant gifts, but appalled that the Council hasn't seen a path to pave for more involvement and even more donations that help build their program to serve girls.

I believe that Girl Scouting should be deep, deep into the sustainability movement. The tag line? "We've always been green!" Hey, do you know anybody who works at headquarters?

Get a life, make a life

Okay, I've been meaning to get this off my chest for a while now: Martha, get a life! I mean really. Is it the same for you, just the constant stream of email from Martha and her minions? The barrage is endless, it seems, and what's pathetic is that she's peddling the same old, same old. I mean come on already Marth -- these same projects have been in your magazines for what, now, 10 years? Longer? You don't need to email me several times a day, and you do need to come up with some fresh material. Or I'm cutting you out of my in-box. There. I've said it. We'll move on.


Dean and I had a fabulous time at our local zoo yesterday. I especially love our zoo because you can be so close, and interact so directly with so many of the animals. We fed the deer, and
the goats, and
Dean rode the camel. We decided the line to ride the elephant was too long, and Dean's getting too heavy to do the pony rides anymore. We missed the dog show but Dean will catch it week after next, when he spends the week at zoo camp.
And hey -- I said "camp!" So you know what that means! I didn't exactly have permission from Leo (front and center standing, in green shirt on the left), but I couldn't resist sharing a 30+ year-old photo of the camp counselor who found me after all these years.
Tracer, here playing her guitar, was the arts and crafts specialist for a couple of my Juniper Knoll years. We sang constantly. Constantly! And it is handy to know a song for just about any occasion.

Still Maine, still Camp Juniper Knoll

I took this picture in Maine, after a great meal at one of our favorite breakfast places. I had hopes of being able to work it into my ABC-Along project and wondered if by any chance the Latin name for fuchsia was somewhere later in the alphabet than 'f,' which came and went back in March. I had a sneaking suspicion, though, and do you see where this is going? Latin name for fuchsia is (drum roll) -- fuchsia! Ah, I'm an endless source of amusement for myself.
In case you were wondering, Cafe This Way is the breakfast place in Bar Harbor. Great food, great coffee, funky (in a good way) atmosphere. Just wish more of the servers were coffee drinkers themselves, and were therefore a little more nimble and generous with the refills. Just saying.
And, too, if you ever find yourself in Bar Harbor, DO take the ride on the Margaret Todd -- this gorgeous, 4-masted schooner. I think the best part is that because it is a sail boat they can cut the engines once the boat is out of the harbor and the ride is beautifully quiet. We saw porpoise and guillemot and loons and many of the outlying islands.

OK, then, indulge me in a little more camp talk. (Do you think that because Blogger is a Google organization that it rates my entries so highly on Google search? Whatever the reason, I want to stay up there....)
I don't think I ever knew Carolyn's last name -- it's kind of a rarity to even know a camp counselor's first name, since most went by nicknames (I hope that's still true at camps everywhere). Anyway, she headed up the waterfront staff and was a unit counselor as well, and I adored her. Like all the staff, she gave all she had to give (or so it felt) to us as campers. She was funny, kind, warm, caring, a great teacher and outdoorswoman. You know how sometimes you wish you could find the best teachers you ever had so you could thank them for everything you now realize they did for you? It's like that for me with the camp counselors I had.
Jan's on the left, Sail is on the right. They both taught me so much, and they both made me feel that they were proud of my accomplishments. The pay was so low that working at camp was really more of a labor of love; even during those days (early- to late-70s), you could make more staying home and being a cashier at a grocery store and you weren't on call basically 24/7. I guess it's hard to put into words, but the dedication of these and other women who ranged in age from 18 to, oh, probably in their 20s or so was just unbelievable.

I think the Girl Scout organization has really changed, and I think one of the many unintended outcomes is that it no longer generates the kind of lifelong devotion and commitment that it once did. I don't think people inside the organization understand that. It is hard to generalize because there is both a national arm and then local chapters -- but still, you've probably been shocked recently at both how expensive Girl Scout cookies have become and how awful they are (am I right? but I hope you, like me, still buy them). It's all about raising money and less about helping to create the world leaders of tomorrow (oh, you thought we just said a pledge and earned badges? hah!). The cookie thing just illustrates that it's a business and not about honoring a tradition (the cookies should at least still taste good). I was a troop leader when I was in high school and made several attempts to get involved locally before I had Dean but the opportunities I was looking for to "give back" just weren't there.

Sigh. I think I'll go make some lemonade and sing a couple of songs. Which reminds me, we stopped at a lemonade stand today, and I hope that you also always stop (just give them the 50 cents, even if you don't want the drink) just like I hope you always buy at least one box....

Camp Juniper Knoll, II

Every time I think I know just how useful the internet is, or just how worthwhile blogging is, I have yet another more amazing experience that makes me realize how barely I have scratched the surface.

Last summer, I wrote an entry about my beloved Girl Scout Summer Camp, Juniper Knoll. I was reminiscing about camp, about how much I miss getting ready every summer to head off to Elkhorn, Wisconsin, for 8 weeks of the good life. It happens to me every summer -- I wish I were 10 years old and at camp again. Well, that blog entry caught the eye of another woman who also counts her Juniper Knoll experiences as a very part of who she is, and it turns out we knew each other back then. I'd given up on figuring out how to connect with anyone from those days, but she found me. We're catching up, sharing memories, and for my part anyway feeling gratified to know that there's someone else out there who understands, who shares the connection. I'm working on scanning some of the old photos I found and plan a few entries to get them up here. Maybe a few more people will be out there, who one day will do a search on Camp Juniper Knoll and will find me, too.

I had an ancient (I mean even THEN it was ancient) Kodak camera that used 126 film, and the pace at which you squeezed the shutter down controlled the exposure. No ability to focus, of course. And my own abilities to frame a photo were amazingly poor. But these old photos (brought back to life via the "color restoration" option on my Epson scanner) still bring back memories of a place so wonderful that you probably wouldn't even believe it unless you'd been there. I learned to swim in this lake, and to sail and to canoe and to row a row boat. Had lunches of graham crackers spread with frosting (Pooh food!) and tried merrily, unsuccessfully, to fish.
I'm on the right in this picture and it was actually 1974 -- Colorado was making what would be an unsuccessful bid for the Olympics. I think the other girl's name was Laura, and we were on our way back from walking to a nearby town for ice cream and soda. Still have the watch but Timex refused to fix it....
An early trip to camp, evidenced by the lack of a real sleeping bag and the million year old brown suitcase. There was a huge (to me, anyway) drop off the back of this tent (set on a wooden platform) but I can't remember -- was it in Citadel? I don't think it was Frontier. Definitely not Gypsy Hollow. Maybe Wilderness? The camp was organized into units, or separate named areas and you really bonded with your group and your leaders -- singing your unit's song at the top of your lungs, at the drop of a hat.
Do you know where you were July 4, 1976? I was at camp, of course -- the one here with the peace sign on my shirt. Camp always meant at least one homegrown parade, one wacky celebration, and we came up with our costumes and games on our own. Making a great deal of fun out of practically nothing was a hallmark.

I believe that options are limitless, and that it is only your own choices that create the barriers. I believe that I can -- you know, within reason -- do just about anything that I make up my mind to do. I'm not afraid of bugs, I like to walk in the rain, I think it's important to sing whether you have a "good" voice or not. I love to sleep outside, to look at the stars, to wonder what a plant's name might be, to make a campfire and roast marshmallows over it. I try to imagine how I would have turned out without Juniper Knoll; it's like being able to see my own Bedford Falls transformation into Pottersville for the lack of George Bailey. I can't imagine myself without summer camp.