Great American Pastimes

Okay, so purists will say it doesn't count, but considering I've never done it before, it counts...backyard camping. I was thinking it might be the only way for me to go. Hot running water just a few yards away. Convenient potties. An electric outlet to inflate my deluxe airbed. In-n-Out Burger just a quick drive down the road. And still falling asleep under the stars (and waking up to each and every sound, including the rustling of my children as they turned over in their sleeping bags, the frightening sound of apples falling off the tree, and the neighborhood dogs doing their redition of the twilight bark) and waking up to the sounds of birds chirping. Really, honestly, two nights sleeping in a tent, no matter where its staked, is camping! Especially when the second night is followed by a rousing 6:30 a.m. wake up from Papa so we could head to the foothills for some fishing.

Of course, this was a big step for me too. I hadn't been fishing for over 20 years! The last time I went I swore I would never go again. It was mom and dad and I and a weekend up in the foothills. I still have flashbacks of falling into the river not once, but twice, the fierce wind, almost getting hooked by mom, and falling off the cliff. No really, its true. And we didn't catch a single fish!

But, as long as I was camping, why not fishing? Unfortunately our wonderful plan to go fishing up near the hatchery was squelched by the smoke from the Yosemite fire. So, we detoured and went to Knights Ferry. Despite the fact that not a single one of us caught a fish, nor even got a nibble, yet got enough snags that Papa had to go back to the car for more hooks, it was a beautiful day on the river.

The water was clear and cool and so inviting. It was so soothing to hear the water running over the rocks and the trees swaying in the breeze. It was fun to hear the excited yells of people launching their kayaks and rafts for the ride down river. It brought back fond memories from my childhood of rounding up night crawlers, picking wild asparagus, and watching grandma fry up the catfish. It was mostly just so refreshing to take time out from the hectic day to day pace of life and enjoy the great outdoors.

As we sat with our picnic lunch, I couldn't help but think that maybe, just maybe, the next time we pitch our tent in will be out in the wild-well... as wild as a state campground can be.

Insomnia

It's 2:53 a.m. and I am sitting here with thoughts whirling through my head. Like, what does "He's my boo" mean anyway? For anyone who is wondering boo means boy/girl friend (The urban dictionary is a great source for answers to questions like that, but beware, it can get vulgar). Boo can also be a term of endearment, which I already knew because it's one of the many nicknames I have for my adorable little boy. I also like to call him "Jackalackabingbong", and absolutely love it when he replies, "Mamalamadingdong". I've become quite the rhymer lately, almost to a fault, but it's what comes of having a 7, 6 and 4 year old, and innumerable readings of Dr. Suess (Mr. brown can moo can you?).
So that's what me and my insomnia do--whirl and twirl with the thoughts in my head. I had a friend who recently told me I should break up with my insomnia. Unfortunately when I tried to tell it that our 10+ year relationship was over it just gave me the cold shoulder. So, here I am creating a blog and trying to get some of those thought on--well not paper, but you know what I mean. Hopefully now that I have a new creative outlet for the whirling and swirling babbling blah blah blah in my head the insomnia will feel like I am cheating on it and do the leaving...we'll see.
Until next time,
sleep sweet!