Toasty Toes: At Camp

Little known fact: THe name of my blog came from a camping trip. It's true. I am well known for burning myself every single time I try to cook. Well. Once, at camp, I was cooking barefoot...
not a good idea. Anyhow, I burned my toes, and hence my nickname- toasty toes. Every year, I take that same trip. Same spot, Same friends. We adore it, and long for it each time it rolls around. I am already finding myself thinking of next year.

Only, next year, we will likely be a million miles away and my friends will be telling stories around a campfire- without me. I savored this year. Every second, every smell, every laugh, every diet dr pepper. Every RAINDROP, LIGHTENING STRIKE, AND THUNDERCLAP. It was a very wet trip.

and yet we found time for fun. We found several geo caches out in the middle of the woods. Tick territory. The ticks were angry at us for invading their sanctuary and took revenge by sucking our blood. We stopped counting ticks- oh, somewhere around fifty. But we had eleven kids, so divide that up...

Oh, the cuteness of the kids. I don't have permission to post pictures of other people's babies, so I tease you with this picture of baby Oak. Okie dokey to his friends. He loves me. His cup says so.

I hope your memorial weekend was as memorable as mine. Minus the the panicy trips to a covered shelter, tick picking, and midnight runs to an insect-owned bathhouse. including of course, a million verses of Fried Ham-Fried Ham, stories in the round that start with a princess and end with everyone dead, and always, always in which Darth Vador must make an appearance (and who, I guess, loves to give wet willies via the force). Also including laughter, hugs, smiles, and the twinkle of your child's eyes as the discover the beauty of God's world.