In the Good Ol' Summertime . . .

As I have been freezing my extremities off this week sitting out side from 6:30 until 8:30 for Pee Wee football games (That would be the post-season championship series. Our little team didn't win much during the regular season. They WOULD be unstoppable during the playoffs. Just when everyone was ready for them to Stop! - Go Cowboys!) I couldn't help but remember when we started football . . .

. . . IN THE SUMMER! We have been footballing since mid-July for Pete's sake. Which made me think back to those lazier days of summer and some of our summer fun . . .

We went camping at Fort Mountain state park where on our first night we had some squashed fingers in the bear-proof garbage cans, a trip to the ER in Chatsworth, a mommy thinking she was spending the night in a state park with two of her three children alone without daddy, and a visit from a bear. Which Daddy had to scare off two nights in a row. Foolish, fearless bear.

We ate countless roasted marshmallows and discovered the tastes of each family member: Mom likes hers medium rare, Dad, John Mark and Gabriel like theirs well-done, and Daniel likes his equivalent to a carcinogen on a stick.

We went hiking. The boys adore it. I adore the fact that they love it so much. As you can see from all of the accoutrements attached to their belts, the boys are in weight training to carry packs on the Appalachian Trail. We also weren't without our pistols. Maybe because of the bear we had encountered?

We also man-handled and played with three little salamanders for three hours straight at the lake. We cried when we had to leave them there. Well, two-thirds of us played with them. One third would not touch them. At all. Not for anything in the wide world. So, for the picture he held up his sand.

We also played with snakes. Real ones. The park ranger brought them to a demonstration. We did this while Daddy packed up camp. According to Dad, he got the better end of the deal. Once again, Daniel would not venture near.

They are already begging to go again; mostly so we can roast marshmallows. Mommy is not much for cold, so we might have to wait until spring or camp in Florida. Maybe I can take some marshmallows and a Zippo lighter to these football games and "kill two birds with one stone." I would be warmer wrapped in a sleeping bag . . .