Of all the things I never thought I’d do, this one ranks pretty high on the list. Camping in Georgia, in January, with my 4 yo, dressed in medieval clothing.
This is one of my mom’s hobbies. This weekend she had a project to enter in the craft competition (a belt made of flax that she’d spun and woven herself). Since we were staying through the weekend, she invited us to go with her. The last time she invited us, they were tent camping in Mississippi in August. I can promise you I’ll never go there. I don’t like to sweat.
But this was in cabins, with indoor plumbing and everything, so it was do-able for me. And Celia was WAY into it. She’s been dying to go camping…and loves dressing up. So we went.
Celia had a blast. She’d been dying to sleep in a ‘bonk bed’ (aka bunk bed) for the longest time, and we got to do that. When we got to the camp the cabin we were assigned (dorm style) had already pretty much had the two rooms designated as one for families…the other….not. There were only two bunk beds left in the family room (which was very homey and very much where I wanted us to be) and since there were 4 of us, I volunteered Celia and I to sleep on a top bunk. We moved one of the beds up against the wall, and I put her on the side by the wall. She was happy as a clam. I was afraid I would fall off the bed, but I made it through the weekend without ever crashing to the floor. I will say that it’s much easier to heft yourself up on the top bunk without a ladder when your a 16 year old at band camp than to do so as a 31 year old mother. But I could still do it. It just looked less graceful.
The next day, Celia was very happy to see that there was a scavenger hunt. We spent our morning finding things on the list, and did very well in my opinion. She won herself a compass ring worthy of a little explorer.
This is my mom and her friend. The very second Celia laid eyes upon the friend, she was enthralled. LOVED the red hair.
She also had a great time running around with another little girl and playing in the sandy, clay dirt.
After lunch there were kids activities. Coloring, knot tying, play acting. She got to be the queen and was thrilled.
We also got to see some fighting demonstrations and tents and stuff.
Then we took a little nap. Well, she did. I laid on the bed with her and tried not to fall off.
We woke up, got dressed in our dressed again and went to Court. Not the speeding ticket kind, the king and queen kind. The recognized winners of the craft fair, and my mom’s friend got a special award.
My favorite part came around next. Feast. The only bad part about it was that each course came out so slowly that after two hours…we were only halfway through….and had to leave. But what we did have was very good. Celia loved her ‘birdie soup’. The menu listed it as Olha Franceza. (French Pot Stew) A spicy stew of game birds, sausages, onions, and garlic.
The description makes it sound like something which would cause bad breath and indigestion, but it really was very good. And I liked my little grilled quail. Neither of those are dishes I could replicate since I don’t really have access to little birdies. The neighbors would think me odd for stalking their pigeons and robins to use in my own little ‘game stew’. Plus, I’d have to like…pluck them and stuff, and we all know that’s never going to happen.
There were a few things that I will be trying to make and add to the things we eat. The first was Mamjar Braquo: a sweet rice pudding sprinkled with cinnamon. Yum. The other is Conouras de Potagem: a sweet and sour carrot souffle. I don’t like cooked carrots at all, but this stuff was GOOD.
I’m way bummed that we couldn’t make it through the rest of the meal (to the dessert portion). But after two hours, Celia was restless, my butt hurt from the folding chair, and mom and her friend were tired.
I enjoyed the event as well….and would have liked it a great deal more were it not for the….well….communal aspect of the camp.
I’m a very private person. Suffice it to say that the bathrooms were quite….open. The stalls had doors and everything, but it was a huge tiled space (very clean, that was a plus) and no doors on the bathroom itself. So anything done in that cavernous tiled room would echo through the rest of the cabin. Add to that the shared aspect (this was not a ‘girls’ room….but a combined restroom.) So even if I could duck in there some time then there was no creepy man standing at the urinals (yes, dude, I know they are there, but you still COULD use the stall since there are women and children around!) anything done in that room would just echo throughout the whole cabin.
I made it through the whole weekend only peeing ONCE.
I will also never again yell at my husband for his quiet, diminutive, almost nonexistent snoring. Right about the time I convinced myself that I would not fall off the bed if I went to sleep, this bear of on individual started snoring louder than I ever thought was imaginable. In my sleep deprived state, the only cognitive thought that went through my head for several hours was “If you are going to sleep in a dorm room and snore like an animal, it should be within my rights to slaughter you like one”
Yup, I thought it. I didn’t actually act on it though, so all is good.
And on Sunday morning, I sucked it up and took a shower. Several small children may have been scarred by the fact that the shower curtains were too small and would not close all of the way. But we were stopping at IKEA on the way home and I need a shower….so my apologies to anyone trying to brush their teeth without catching a reflection of me dancing around in that cold water trying to get clean.