Wednesday, August 19, 2015

George's 13th Birthday

Summer.  It just whizzed by, but it was wonderful while it lasted.  Life here has been busy.  I hope to post about many of the things that have filled our time, but for now here's a peek at our trip to the Spring River earlier this month.

This summer George turned thirteen.  According to Moss tradition, he got to plan a small trip to celebrate, and, after much deliberation (I'm still basking in relief that he didn't choose an overnight backpacking trip or a twenty-mile bike ride) he asked if we could camp by the Spring River.  Daddy camped there quite a bit as a teenager--even Mommy went once when they were dating--and it looks like we're going to continue the tradition.

Our campsite was right by the river, so we (especially the boys) spent a lot of time in it.  It was simply terrible, if terrible means clear water, little waterfalls, islands to explore, and streams.

Uh, Joy, I think you meant "terrific". 

Oh, right.  The summer heat has fried my brains and then dusted them with sugar.  And because of that, I have no idea why I just compared my cranium to a doughnut.

Moving on.

Samuel and Thomas--these boys practically lived in their suits the entire trip.  Problem was, they didn't sleep in them at night.

Like our last night there.

When we made the all-important discovery that our tent leaked.

More on that later.

Mommy and James
However, all that was in the future on our first night, so we enjoyed the sun while it shone, played by (and in) the river, talked around the fire, and ate lots of deliciousness.

Emphasis on deliciousness.  S'mores, loaded potatoes, and bread, oh my.

The next day most of us rafted the river.  With some of us under the impression that we should stop for a snack every mile or so, others firmly believing that we should take the roughest rapids possible, and others jumping overboard every chance they got...let's just say that the trip wasn't boring.

Poor John-John was too young and had to stay with Mommy.  Talk about devastation, calamity, grief. 

Apparently, he got over his disappointment quite quickly.  Ice cream tends to have that affect on me, too.


And...we're at the finish line!

While we were all (mostly) wet, we tried out the rope swings at the campground.  Slightly scary, very cold, and very cold--but fun.  And cold.

Where I got the idea that August was hot, I don't know, but I sure didn't get it from the river.

We spent the evening hanging around the campsite, playing in the river, and drying off from our long day.  We spent the night discovering that our tent leaks.  Badly.  Quite memorable, but sometimes I think I could do without those kind of memories.  I can just see us in forty years: "Do you remember that time we camped at Spring River and the tent leaked?" And the story will grow and grow until we start saying that our tent floated off down river until we woke up and paddled back to, we were picked up by a barge and when we got on board the crew started to dance a sailor's hornpipe...and then we met the President and were given a special award for courage in the face of danger...  

So in the morning (after we saw that all the other campers had left except for the ones in the RV) we packed up our gear and our crew and headed for the drier regions of home.

As cliche as it sounds, there is really no place like home.  Eggs coming out of our ears, Bible Bee study all over the house, music, homeschool starting up again for all but me (cue Pomp and Circumstance), practicing for an upcoming community's our life and it's a taste of what I hope to blog about over the next month.

Hey, but if our blog has another unexplained period of silence, just know that we're in the business of making memories rather than recording them.