‘Had a great time camping this weekend. ‘Slept too little and talked too much, walked too little and ate too much.
…And took too much. Now I have to put it all away again! For each part, I make a chart: / Did we need any? Were there too many? / If it weren’t there, would we care?
I’m compulsive enough that I keep a Master List. Yeah, the list grows every year. By now it has 10 categories of up to 25 items each. (Now, I pick and choose; I don’t pack 150 things. Do I?) Wanna know why I’m so careful? So glad you asked! Can any of you relate to this? Day 1: “Why do you pack so much stuff? Next time you should let me pack.” Day 2: “For this meal we are poorly equipped. Next time you should let me pack.”
Tonight I made more lists: Forgot these / Glad I took these / Would be a good idea / Less of these / More of these / Took, but didn’t use / These were bad ideas…
The longer I do this, the more I understand the whole RV thing: fill it with second-hand dishes, some sleeping bags, and six hundred dollars worth of gas, and you’re good to go! But have you seen those RV sites? Set foot out your door, and you’re in the middle of some stranger’s game of gin rummy. [Or worse!] It gives a whole new meaning to “Out of the frying pan, into the fire.”
Maybe you can tell from my lists I’m a cabin camper, complete with indoor plumbing–and electricity if I can get it. Some don’t even call it camping. I DON’T CARE! I bet it will make some of you want to throw your computer to the floor when I tell you my cabin even had a microwave and a TV.
My friend told me about somebody who disliked crowded campgrounds. He said the thing makes no sense: Daily, in the cities, people are squeezed together like sardines. So a couple of weekends a year they drive a couple hours away—and squeeze themselves together like sardines.
Ahh, America. Ya gotta love it.