You'd think I was preparing for nuclear holocaust or something

I haven't had much spare time this week to blog. We are going camping this weekend and I have been occupied with packing for the trip.

Now, I should tell you up front: I don't camp well. I don't mind camping, but I certainly don't want to have to rough it. I think this goes back to when I was a kid. We had a nice trailer up north on Georgian Bay and we went there every weekend in the summer. It was a nice trailer. It had TV, stereo, air conditioning, flush toilet, electricity and hot running water - all the comforts of home. I liked camping in that trailer. But once a year my folks would drag us WAY up north, up where there aren't even real roads, and we'd drive until the road ended, and then we'd get in our boat and drive away from all civilization to find an uninhabited island to camp on. For that week, we roughed it.

Yeah, that was a laff-riot, let me tell you. First of all, the island was mostly a big rock. We couldn't stake our tents in the ground because, well, there was no ground! We had to use smaller rocks to keep the tents from moving around on the big rock. My father mercifully brought air mattresses for us to sleep on. Sleeping on solid granite is not fun.

The bugs were so bad up there that we had to stay in our tents from just before dusk until it was full dark. You simply could not be out during that time or you'd get eaten alive. So we went to bed pretty early at night, which was ok because the sun and the birds woke us up at the crack of dawn anyway.

Performing ones' morning ablutions in the lake was a real treat. You couldn't just wade into the water and wash yourself. We're on a rock, remember? The rock just...ends, and from where it ends the water is right there and immediately over your head. So I would be trying to wash my hair and my face while treading water with one arm, all the while keeping a watch out for water snakes and turtles and fish, all of which could take a big chunk out of me. (Ok, I only saw a snake once, but once was enough. And I KNOW for a fact that there were fish in there big enough to do real damage - I reeled more than a couple in over the years.)

And oh, yes. Before I forget. There are no flush toilets on this island. There aren't even any outhouses. There's just, you know, ditches. Need I say more?

The real kicker for me was that my dad always brought along his shotgun. Just incase, you know? But every year we went and every year I hated it. All right, so maybe I am just a spoiled brat. I like to be comfortable - so what? *grin*

When I go caming now, I do it in style! The tent my husband and I sleep in is equipped with a queen size portable bed, side tables, lamp, ceiling fan and carpet. Yes, carpet. I think it is hilarious!! People have actually stopped to gawk and take pictures of our tent. Once a boy scout looked into the tent and then shook his head sadly, saying "That's not camping..." Well of course it isn't! That's the point!

So needless to say, it takes me pretty near a week to pack for the weekend. We need to bring our boat along because there's not enough room in the van for everything. My husband is an extremely patient man, wouldn't you say?

In case you're interested, we're going here.