I’m glad I am a camper, that’s all I want to be, ‘cuz if I weren’t a camper a fisherman I’d be…cast it, reel it, don’t forget the worm….

These were the nonsensical lyrics to a song I’d sing with my girls growing up.  I happily joined them in singing and doing the motions – the song added being a hunter, a walker, a jogger, a farmer (one of my favorite as you pretended to milk a cow and said, “give, Bessie, give, the baby’s gotta live!”)

Well, just so you know, true confessions, I’ve never been much of a real camper.  I did experience jungle living – but it was as a toddler and I don’t remember being too affected one way or the other, it was just our way of life.  Apparently as an elementary-aged kid, when we were on furlough, we did some tent camping – so says my mother.

My girls haven’t had much experience in the camping area, either, other than me convincing them how cool it would be to sleep in their Disney tents outside, camping in the backyard with Daddy.  Mommy didn’t want to ruin the daughter/daddy bonding time – so she stayed inside, relaxing with candles, a bubble bath, soft music and some great reading material, followed by a blissful night’s rest with no pitter patter of little feet until early morning when they came piling back inside for breakfast.

Well, the time has now come.  I’m going camping. For real.  The tent kind of camping. The no showers, wear hats, or bandanas and stink like bug spray and campfire smoke, catch and clean fish to eat kind of camping.  Well….that’s what it’s supposed to be like.  To soften the blow I’ve adapted things a little – I’ve borrowed an air mattress and made a great menu of other edible things just in case the catch of the day option doesn’t pan out (pun intended).  I also have color coordinated/warm clothes, semi warm clothes, summer clothes, blankets, pillows, camp chairs, coolers, and more.  Sorry, Brian (our fearless driver of the last shift leaving) I have a lot of stuff.  But it’s all for a good cause – to be as comfy in our camp home away from home for everybody.  That’s really what camping’s about, right?

We’re going with our AWESOME college-age students Lifegroup.  Our daughter, Elise is a part of this group, she is also going.  Sorry, Elise, that I didn’t give you a more prepared camping upbringing!  But, it should be fun.  It should be memorable.  I’m excited.  I think…yes, I am.

P.S.  Apparently there are belly boats to fish on the lake.  I will probably be the first one to actually capsize in a belly boat.  What if a fish comes up and chews on my leg?  Do bears smell blood if I walk back with a dripping flesh wound?  Yikes…am I getting the flu?  Hmmm, should I still go?

P.P.S.  I will regale you with camping tales after we get back.  I’m sure there will be something to share.  Anyone who has gone anywhere with me knows that my life is a constant crazy adventure.  Rob’s a lucky man!  LOL.

About cakboliv

Born in Cochabamba, Bolivia to wonderful missionary parents, Howard and Maxine Morarie. Grew up in Bolivia, both in a remote jungle village

One response »

  1. Jeanie says:

    Who is that comedian who asks, “What is a happy camper anyway? Are ther any campers who are happy? Because whenever you hear the term ‘happy camper’ it is indicating some one who is really mad or disgruntled, as in ‘well, he’s not a happy camper.'”

    I just heard that somewhere…only funnier.

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