Recipe for FUN

I was just browsing some camping equipment online, and I found this little picture. I was suddenly reminded of some precious time spent in a tent similar to this one. I believe it was October, maybe it was September, but that's not the point. I do remember packing a large tent, an air mattress, pillows, and sleeping bags for our time at Lake Powell. I remember the sun was shining, the lake was like glass, and I had visions of sugarplums dancing in my head. We arrived at dusk. I had just completed my daily briefing with the CIA director. Around here everything goes fuzzy, maybe it's just a protective mechanism. The details are sketchy, but I will try to weed them out. Cory threw a tantrum and at the same time, a bag on top of my car. Oops, there was a lantern in there, one broken lantern, one dented car- nice. We loaded the boat up with our stuff and made the suicide push towards ground zero (the campsite). The wind was a bit strong, and I began to set up the 8 man tent I had brought- though no more than 6 had ever shared the space. Joe and Carri had lent their tent to someone and it was returned minus the poles. Oops, kind of an important part of the tent, but no matter, we had room. Enter gale force winds here. I blow up my air mattress. Now it is time to eat. I had some sort of sandwich with lettuce, mustard, tomato, a pound of sand, and some piece of meat. Mmmm good!!! Next, we have the arrival of what mom termed "possible serial killers" - a perfectly rational thought. Odds are, if you meet a stranger, he or she is a serial killer. Rain begins. Slight oversight becomes blatantly obvious. NOBODY ELSE BROUGHT A TENT. Everybody enters our tent, oh so comfortable. Now I don't know about you, but I can identify my pillow without any hesitation. As we all get ready for bed, I wonder where my pillow is. Mind you, everyone was awake at this point. "Hey, who has my pillow?" I ask. Cricket chirps. "No really, who has my pillow?" No answer. Apparently no one else even bothered to look at the pillow they were sleeping on. Oh well, I guess I went to the trouble of packing it so somebody who forgot theirs could have it. Over the next 10 hours or so, I slept 20 minutes, being forced into the corner of the tent. Mom was worrying about the serial killers, the tent poles came out of the ground- Joe and I went out to pitch a fit- I mean the tent again. Reminder, when the wind blows hard, go downwind. Morning, finally. Everyone eventually gets out of the tent. I wonder did I really bring my pillow or maybe I left it home, but no, there it is. Conditions do not warrant any skiing. What could we do? Hey Cory, let us bury you in the sand and you try to get out. Joe and I proceed to enjoy the next three hours more than we should have. I think Cory cried. This trip is H-E- double hockey sticks. Let's go home. I am a little older now, a little wiser, and I can laugh about that now, at least that's what my therapist says. WHO WOULD TAKE SOMEONE ELSE'S PILLOW? I think I was closer to being a serial killer than those other guys. They probably slept more comfortably. Sorry Cory, but it was really funny, I had to get my car dent's worth out of you anyway.

Now this is a post worth reading, this is what makes the website fun. If you get a chance post something, a memory, pictures, whatever. Make comments on other posts- read others comments. I hope you enjoyed my stroll down memory lane. - Alan