A CAMPING WE WILL GO

BFF Laura

Jessica

It's guest blogger time!  I became acquainted with Jessica and Laura first through the Bound4Burlingame Facebook page, and then I finally had the pleasure of meeting them (and their offspring) when we rendezvoused at Burlingame Campground over the 2013 camping season.  I found them both to be kindred spirits and look forward to many more camping trips and off season excursions. 

Thank you Jessica and Laura for your continued support!  Camp On!

And now a word..or two, from Jess.....

Another summer has come and gone with my very special gaggle of people.  I wouldn't want to be in the company of anyone else for summer vacation then my BFF and OUR 5 kids.  We started camping at Burlingame umpteen years ago with our folks, and have continued the tradition with our own band of misfits.  Every winter begins the countdown and the questions from my girls “mamma, how much longer till we go camping?” ……or to my BFF--”Pearl, what camping items did you find this week?” My BFF’s name is Laura but I call her Pearl LOL—it references my grandmother and her best friend, but that is a tale for another blog.

This year our camping trip seemed to creep up way to slowly, but finally it was upon us.  As excited as we all were, a few weeks before our annual trip, my BFF delivered devastating news to me…. She would have to LEAVE CAMP EARLY! GASP  ‘THE HORRA’  Her oldest had football practice.  Damn kids ruin everything!!  We have a set routine.  An order of things done.  A set way to begin and end our camping  journey, so as NOT to anger the camping gods.  It seems that we miss something every year which results in cracked windshields, trips to the ER with hot cops, postage stamp sized campgrounds, torrential down pours, hurricanes, car alarms that refuse to shut off, or tarps a-smoldering.  There is a long laundry list of camping mishaps for us and each memory makes us giggle.

This year started off on the wrong foot!  As I mentioned the camping gods…. They were already plotting against us just for the fact that my BFF had to leave early.  Now, one of the other rituals that we have is to meet at a specific time.  Then, 45 minutes AFTER that specified time we all manage to get to our meeting spot.  Once we are on the road, and then turn back once---twice---sometimes three times for things we have forgotten, we begin our journey.  I am the driver and Laura is the ‘navigator’ and yes I use that term very loosely.  As we listen to the kids bicker and argue and fight and laugh, Laura and I reminisce of old times and ponder what will go wrong this year.  This is the routine.  This is what did NOT happen this year as we took 2 cars (dun duh duuuummm) AND Laura left a full 5 hours after we did.  There was no hope for us to make it through the week without the camping gods having their revenge.  Arriving at our normal halfway spot in Middletown Connecticut, i felt the void  of half of my camp clan missing.  Not even my pick me up DD coffee was oddly not the same.  But….drive on I did.  Once I made it to Burlingame, I set up camp with minimal yelling for the kids to help me.  Then off to dinner and the store to pick up supplies.  FINALLY  my BFF showed up around 8, just in time for her to fall asleep around the campfire!  And so ends our first day.  

Camping Cuisine...

The rest of the ‘week’ was filled with new friends, (thanks Laurie and Craig) lots and lots of rain, a trip to Wal-Mart in the middle of the night with my love to stop the Titanic (aka my tent) from sinking.  It is amazing what tarps keep out (the rain), and what they also keep in (smelly feet and kid stench…oh, and body heat and.... tooting).   This year brought  new adventures to the Point Judith Lighthouse, Bagels and More, the Umbrella Factory, Misquamicut go karts, and a Chinese buffet (please don’t judge).  If you are looking to lose yourself in jewelry, clothing, cool nick-knacks or a bamboo maze—The Umbrella Factory is the place to go.  For a few hours of fun off the beach, the go karts and bumper boats are a blast!   This trip was also filled with the old standbys.  The beaches of Westerly, Charlestown and Galilee, Frisbee tosses, metal detecting, Watch Hill for the carousel, ice cream and our annual trip to Romeo’s shop.  

...the camp tradition will live on!

And of course, the most important thing of all…. Memories made around the campfire.  I was even grown up enough this year to let others light the campfire. Between the s’mores, roasted starbursts and laughs, not a moment will be forgotten.  Children falling asleep in the chairs by the fire, marshmallows flying all around for a marshmallow war and 007 trying to make an appearance with lighter fluid.  Folks, my love is more dashing then 007, but should not try and get a job as a special effects master in Hollywood.   With boys being boys and trying bug zappers on themselves, wood that didn't want to light, rain forcing us under a pavilion for a lantern lit game of taboo….. the laughs were never gone for long.  This is my place.  This is home to me.  And every year I spend here with my BFF, my love,  our kids, or our folks that come for the day, it always leaves the promise of a  lifetime of memories.  My countdown to next year has already begun.  Only 343 days to go! Laura…let the shopping begin.

"THE CAMPING MOTHER"

THE CAMPING MOTHER

by

BOUND4BURLINGAME.COM

Circa 1976-
Hiking and camping with mom and cousins on the Long Trail in Vermont.  

I had a mother who camped with me
Sagas of insects that devoured our knees
Needle-like stingers in lieu of sharp teeth
Of minuscule nuisances that could sneak underneath.

I had a Mother who camped where she lay
Through cold snaps and downpours, or the sun’s golden rays
Stories of LL Bean®, Coleman® and REI® camping gear
Which all outdoorsy kids had the right to hear.

I had a Mother who told campfire tales
Of canvas tents dragged over hills, and down dales
True to the trail she’ll stay until death
Trudging up mountains till flat out of breath.

I had a Mother who camped with the “things”
That wholesome life to a kid’s heart brings--
Graham Crackers, marshmallows and chocolate…not much
Bedtime s’mores were the best…my mom’s special touch.

You may have tangible wealth to hold
stockpiles of fire starters and generators of gold
Richer than I you may never be--
I had a Mother who camped with me.

The poem was based off from the classic poem "The Reading Mother" by Strickland Gillian

I had a mother who read to me
Sagas of pirates who scoured the sea,
Cutlasses clenched in their yellow teeth,
"Blackbirds" stowed in the hold beneath.
I had a Mother who read me lays
Of ancient and gallant and golden days;
Stories of Marmion and Ivanhoe,
Which every boy has a right to know.
I had a Mother who read me tales
Of Gelert the hound of the hills of Wales,
True to his trust till his tragic death,
Faithfulness blent with his final breath.
I had a Mother who read me the things
That wholesome life to the boy heart brings--
Stories that stir with an upward touch,
Oh, that each mother of boys were such!
You may have tangible wealth untold;
Caskets of jewels and coffers of gold.
Richer than I you can never be--
I had a Mother who read to me.

DEALING WITH UN-HAPPY CAMPERS

"One always looking for flaws leaves too little time for construction."

Try as I might, sometimes it is pretty hard not to take other people's negativity personally.  Why is that you might ask?  Well, its simply because it pisses me off that after taking the time and effort (by that I mean hours, weeks, months... even years) to develop an idea, create a concept, motivate and invest myself, and then finally put my ideas to paper (keyboard)...that there are always those people that will take the same time and energy to crap on a person's lively hood and take all the fun out of it.  


I'm not talking about the usual "Debbie Downer" or "Negative Neil" who might be defined in one of the following ways:

• Someone who throws in a negative comment, says something terribly depressing, typically only tangentially related to the present circumstance or topic of conversation.

• A person with an incessant need to bring down the collective mood of a group chill or forum.

• A busy-body pessimist, one who looks on the downside of things, criticizes relentlessly, sees the glass as half empty...you get the picture.

In keeping with today's technology, I'm leaning more towards the following definition:

• Someone that finds it necessary to use social media to post negative remarks and/or make comments to create unnecessary conflict/controversy to fulfill their own boredom;  or to satisfy the personal belief that somewhere along the line, they have obtained a level of intelligence far more superior to that of the general public....and they feel the need to add their two-cents in on any, and every thing, from breast feeding to the molecular structure of gasoline.

It is the latter nuisance that tends to ruffle my feathers. Toxic people that can't help but attach their unprovoked commentary onto your posts and photos, hoping to egg a response out of another fan/follower...or you.  Up to now (hence this blog post), I've attempted to grin and bear it.  Ya know, be professional.  Then I thought, wait a second!  Let's define "professional".

A professional is a person who is engaged in a certain activity, or occupation, for gain or compensation as means of livelihood; such as a permanent career, not as an amateur or pastime.

So, let's break this down. (a) I'm not getting paid to endure anyone's wrath. My time and efforts are strictly on a volunteer basis. It has actually cost me to pursue this endeavor. (b) My education/career is not web design, photography, writing, survival tactics or publishing. (c) I'm no expert at anything. (Maybe complaining, but only because I've been told that... I don't see it.  Really.)  (d) Although most of the time, I find myself engaging in creative and intellectually challenging "work" with Bound4Burlingame.com, B4B Facebook Page, Camping Concepts 101, B4B You Tube Channel, Twitter, or our Blah...Blah...Blog, NOWHERE do I imply the quality of my workmanship is impeccable, or professional grade... or even of decent quality.

Many people hold a "pro" to a higher standard, thus finding it a necessity to place a great deal of trust  in them.  Honestly, I am an admitted amateur web designer and hobbyist camper, so due to my voluntary lack of professionalism...I suggest ....no, implore you, to NOT hold me to any strict code of conduct enshrining rigorous ethical and/or moral obligations.  I plant myself beside you, not above you. We are equal.  I know only what myself, family, friends, and acquaintances have experienced and willingly shared.  I've always felt that any one person knows no more, or no less, then another.  They only possess different knowledge.

When you do visit my site, or social pages, I ask you to have an open mind.  Everyone has the ability to listen, absorb, learn, familiarize, observe, recognize, accomplish, enlighten, and educate others.  Don't be jealous, or vindictive, when you come across someone making an attempt to share their passions with fellow enthusiasts.  Embrace it, be part of it.  Bestow your knowledge.  Participate on a fun, yet respectable level. Share in the adventure, by sharing your adventures.

If your goal when you frequent my social network pages is to criticize, reprimand, chastise, judge, nit-pick, bash, or give bad press to my ideas/performance/aspirations/attempts at humor ...  PLEASE...do a friggin reverse, and try focusing on yourself.  How about if you go to YOUR own wall, or blog, or Twitter account etc., and post a stupid, smart ass, sad, holier-than-thou, woeful, or depressing status/photo/comment which conveys your spitefulness regarding life in general. Then sit back and watch the morale of all that see it, plummet to the ground.  Get the hint?  Good.

Pass this on...or share these thoughts with a Debbie Downer you know ;-)  Maybe they'll get the hint too.

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