summer vacation.

The summer - the middle of the summer - always brings back water-logged memories for me.

When I was little, our summer vacation consisted of "the Mama" loading up her band of hoodlums in the car - swimsuits about the only thing packed (i'm sure there were more things... but those were the only important things) - and off we would go... heading straight for wherever my Grandparents had parked their car, tent and boat.

I think my first words every time I saw my Grandparents were: "can we go in the boat?" or "can we go swimming"?

Camping...
the smell of the woods, the smell of the water... the fire pits, fishing poles, camp cookies... our laughter and giggles mixing in with the sound of the tent flaps and drying beach towels whippin' in the breeze...

the LifeBoy soap Grammy would hand us when it was bath-time. We would run straight in to the lake or river. Yes, the campgrounds had showers, but they just weren't as much fun!

It was ALWAYS such an adventure!!! Slappin' at skeeters and flies, climbing trees and exploring trails, finding sticks and rocks, pine-cones and "gumballs", then running back to the campsite at full speed with my hands full and held out as if I was carrying the most precious of diamonds - each time my Grandmother would study them with the same intensity that I would and we would decide that they were animals or people or fantastic things... and then I would run off and find more treasures. More diamonds.

We would have "tea" with rocks and sticks... soda bottle lids... you name it. Always at the water's edge.

At the waters edge I could be found crouched down with my chin resting in my hands listening to the little waves roll in each time a boat would pass, studiously searching for shells or fossils... if I was lucky I would be IN the water to FEEL the waves roll in each time a boat would pass, dancing and twirling around ON the shells or fossils. Little bugs, weeds and driftwood, turtles and little frogs... it was all there. A treasure trove of water wonder.

Just about every morning Grampy would wake us up before the sun did - "the Mama" and Grammy would feed us - and then off in the boat we would go, sure that the fish were jumpin'.

I was always WAY tooooooo girly to drop a line in the water (if you catch it you have to touch it *insert wrinkled nose here*) so I would trail my fingers in the water while leaning over the side of the boat with my chin resting on my life jacket, contemplating life as I knew it. I would watch for the fish to jump, listen to my Grandparents "discuss" which cove was the better fishin' spot... then I would pick up a book, look at my Grandfather and grin the biggest grin (as he plopped a hat on my head) because over the years we had GREAT debates over who knew how to fish the correct way... I still say I did.

With my nose buried in a book and my feet dangling over the side of the boat, listening to the water gently lap against the sides, my "theme music" being the hum of the trolling motor and fishing reel lines being released (snap back, click - whoooooosh - plop)...

the smell of water and air, boat and sunblock... I would float along in fishing bliss. Daydreaming...

Then, I'd get the go-ahead and cannon ball off the bow of the boat. 'Cause I was crazy cool like that, and the redneck brothers and I always had to see who made the biggest splash in that deliciously cool, murky green water.

Today I went to dip my toes in the water... stood in some more ankle deep water... I contemplated life as I know it... I daydreamed... I made wishes and listened to the little waves...

comin' to you LIVE from a single-wide where the water's fine... wanna go fishing with me? I would love to have you along... but you have to touch the fish. *insert wrinkled nose here*


p.s. I realize that most of these pictures have nothing to do with camping - but you have to remember who you're dealing with here. (crazy cool, remember? LOL) Some were taken today - some were taken in other parts of the US...