campingcampingcamping
Sometimes I honestly worry about my sanity. Generally on days like this one, when I roll out of bed and stumble out of my room to see that almost a full room of my house is now taken over with camping gear storage.
(No, the congas are not for camping. They are what usually lives there, alone and happy and seeming much bigger than in the above photo)
The sanity questioning comes after realizing that I have organized a camping trip for 28 people (many of whom are friends-of-friends and completely unknown) and promised to provide gear for the novice campers AND told them I would do all the cooking for the three days we'll be out there. Plus organizing hikes and scuba diving to keep everyone entertained.
It can only be attributed to a long, wet winter spent mainly indoors. That and an established family history of camping addiction (both my parents and my sister and her husband went camping for their honeymoons). I still cannot excuse the fact that when I was compiling all of the personal stash of gear, I realized that I have not one, not two, but FIVE sleeping bags! Just me. Five bags. Of course there is a voice in the back of my head hollering "but they're different types! Two of them zip together so really it's only four and a half!". I swear camping causes abnormal thought processes. Also, tonight I'm going to go and buy more tarps, even though I probably have 7 or 8 of those. And more ropes, so apparently I can weave a giant web over the campsite, should we need one.
Still, I am willing to bet that we'll all get out there and I'll realize I have forgotten the spoons.
posted by LadyJay @ 11:03 AM
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