...doesn't mean that I like to camp. Let me tell you how I really feel. I hate being cold. I hate being dirty. I hate not being able to sleep, because I'm too cold. And, I hate smelling like smoke. Did I miss anything? Oh yeah. I hate wearing camping clothes, which I don't own any of.
When I was younger, you know, back in the day when my body could survive without sleep...and a bed, I went camping all the time--and actually liked it. It wasn't even fancy camping. I'm talking sleeping bag under the stars camping. And then, there were the riding trips with my dad. We would pack up our horses and mules and ride into the wilderness to sleep. There was the trip where my feet were so freaking cold, that my dad had to build a fire at the top of the mountain so that I could warm up my feet. And let's not forget the overnight hike I went on when I was 16, carrying a back pack that weighed more than I did, not being able to go to the bathroom without it getting all over the back of my pants, being stuck on top of the mountain in the rain, and...the tick. Tick number two. And that, my friends, is why you will know for sure, that if you ever see me gathering sticks, it is definitely for the inside of my house.
|image from Jen Loves Kev|
|image from Full House|
|image from Pure Style Home|