We went camping at Silver Falls the last couple of days. Or maybe I should say "cabinning," although spell-check has informed me that it is not a word. Too bad.
And let me tell you, cabinning is awesome.
Just a little two room cabin. But real-ish beds, heat for the cold mornings and electric lights and outlets really jazz up the camping experience.
Some of you might argue that this is not really a camping experience, and I would probably agree. But then I would ask you why you are groaning in pain and you will tell me about that freaking inescapable ROCK that was under your back all night in your tent.
And I will remember all of my "real" camping nights in my life and go and give my cabin a great, big hug.
See, no frills:
And those waterfalls are pretty cool too.
Do you hear that? That is the sound of my 16 year-old self screaming in agony that I am wearing Birkenstock sandals with socks.
And Sadie's favorite part. Toasting marshmallows for s'mores.
Then she would say, Mama, I have a headache and a tummy ache and might throw up. Which is usually the sign of enough s'more. N'more, if you will.
But then 2 minutes later she was back in action. And she was very proud of her toasting technique with this one below.
I have no pictures of when Silas decided to terrify us all by hiding in the bushes and not answering when we were screaming his name.
Turns out, he was pooping. He hides and doesn't like to answer when he's pooping.
Thank god the kid has blond hair and I spotted him standing there watching us all go cracker-cakes. Stinker.
I don't think I can ever go camping again unless he's on a leash. Oh, that's not legal?
OK, maybe we can go when he's 37 years old and won't wander off. My heart can't take that again.
Barring runaway toddlers, it was great to be out-of-doors. Cooking over the fire, washing dishes under cold spigots, going for moonlit walks, sleeping in a real-ish bed, remembering how dirty it is possible to get.
I can't wait to do it again with the kids in 35 years.