Camping feels like home.
Not in every way, but many.
There is lots to do.
Building the patio.
Digging. Hammering. Digging some more.
My fingernails are so dirty.
Deodorant once a day is not enough.
Heart rates are up, and things take longer than they should.
Yet…
I climb back into the camper for lunch.
Easy food. Leftovers or something snacky.
Pizza pops.
Off go the pants and into the bed to watch a show and eat lunch.
Just like at home.
Once lunch is done, I crochet.
Because I’m a die hard.
Just like at home.
The metal crochet hook is cold against the blisters on my hands.
The pineapple cider can is cold against my blisters.
My rings pinch my blisters.
I won’t take them off, though.
The AC is pumping in there. Thank you, Lord, for operational AC at the lake.
When not even everyone has it at home.
Feels unfair, but I am grateful.
I smell of sweat, dirt, and bug spray.
As I should.
Dishes aren’t done. Water is off.
We have a leak.
Merp.
We’ll get there.
The deck comes first.
The deck comes now, in fact.
We will do our best.
Supper with new friends at the camp, because people are lovely.
Tomorrow, BIG work will go down!
Camping feels like home.
I cannot wait to get the kids up here.