Day 458: Recharging a Dead Battery

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It's 1:00am and I'm pretty much out of gas. We just made the trip back from Graves Island, walking in the door about fifteen minutes ago; just long enough to bring Blaze up to bed, wash the sunscreen off my body and sit down to write this abominable thing, before the whole system crashes, I collapse face first to the floor and sleep where I land. 

We had a fantastic day of pseudo camping. 

We set out just before noon and first had to make a number of pit stops before finally setting out for the hour and a half-ish drive to the campground. We dropped Hubble off at my parents, bought entirely too many supplies for our brief afternoon of roughing it, then and stopped to get some food on the go. The morning may not have unraveled in that exact order, but I've got eyes full of campfire smoke and a brain quickly shutting down, so that's as good as I'm getting tonight. You'll get some details of the day thrown down in haphazard manner, with very little consideration for the timing of anything. 

I'm not sure what time we ended up arriving, but I do know we ended up staying a lot longer than we'd anticipated and left about five minutes before leaving would have been sheer stupidity. It's debatable whether or not we flew well past that maker, as it seemed somewhat ridiculous to pack up all our things, waking up a slumbering baby, and drive all the way home, when we could have just stayed out for the night. They were going to bring a tent if we had decided to stay out the night, but didn't bring it when Jeannette decided that just an afternoon would be good for this trip. 

As such, this black mark goes on Jeannette's ledger, not mine, though to be fair she really had nothing to base a decision on, given the fact she's never camped in her life. A whole new world was opened up for her today. Yes, there is such a thing as a camper, a place very much like a home, only smaller and quite mobile. Gone are the days when you have to shit in a hole you dug yourself out in the middle of the woods. There's no more having to go out into the bush with a knife in your teeth and snares slung over your shoulders, having to physically hunt your food down every time you get hungry. And shockingly enough to her at least, the bugs ended up being very similar to the ones we have at our house, and were not the baseball sized predators she had swimming in her head. 

At one point, around 11pm or so, when we were by ourselves for a moment around the campfire, as I sat lamenting the long drive home that was rapidly approaching, she turned to me and actually said the words, "We totally should have just stayed over night." 

I could have thrown her in the water. It was the tone she said it with my friends that caused my blood to boil, the insinuation that somehow this had just been an oversight on both our parts, instead of a decision she made all by herself! I believe my immediate response was something to the affect of 'I'm never speaking to you again. We'll raise our children together, I'll take you to see your family on holidays, but I'm done talking to you as of this moment." 

Yes Jeannette! We totally SHOULD have stayed over at the kickass, beautiful campsite, with the family members we get along great with, who have been camping forever and have it down to a very comfortable science.

But next time, we'll know this. Next time.

On the ride home she was literally wondering aloud how much campers cost, already that into the idea after only an afternoon of exposure. You have to wonder how someone can go through a life without any reference point whatsoever for the camping experience. Surely there have been enough scenes in the multitude of movies out there that must have taken place at a campsite, or a camp ground, or even in a camper itself for her to have a reasonable approximation of what the experience would be like!

But nope. Camping to Jeannette, apparently, is what cricket is to most westerners. 

So we had a great time at the campground. I got to play hide and go seek for the first time in years, a game you never have to ask me twice to play by the way. Love hide and go seek. Always have. It's a different game with three kids under the age of seven of course, the hiding places aren't necessarily anything that's going to have you scratching your head at; a lot of "I'm over here behind the truck!" and whatnot, but still, a good time anyway. I also rode a bike, which embarrassingly enough, is another thing that's been a while for me. We ate burgers and barbecue chicken and enjoyed some sweet drink. All in all it was a really good time. Even Blaze seemed quite into it, though he was certainly upset with me today after the debacle last night. 

He ended up sleeping in his crib the whole night though, so it's a victory for team parentals for sure. I had to give him a bottle at around 3am or so, but that wasn't too bad considering how things started out; the drunken slouch-sleep technique he was employing, interrupted by intermittent bouts of screaming and all that. In response he refused to say my name all day. It might not seem like much to you, but I've become quite accustomed to hearing 'da-da' whenever I want it, having only to say it to him myself for him to then flash a big smile and say it right back to me. But not today. Not once. He fully ignored me this kid, much to the amusement of Jeannette. Wouldn't say it no matter what I did. 

Tomorrow I have to get up ass early to clear my driveway a bit so that my wood guy can get his tractor going and start pulling all those trees off my lawn. The chance of rain tomorrow is 100%, which if I'm honest, is pretty good news considering I would very much like to get a bit of sleep in the am. But I also want to get the work done... so I suppose either way it'll be fine. Still, if it's a decision between sleep or... well pretty much anything else, I know which way I'm going to lean every time. 

I've hit empty. I'm coasting into the gas station. 
Nite munks |mp

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