I Can Hardly Bear It.

We’re camping this long weekend and you know how I feel about that. But Husband bought me a new sleeping bag, so things are looking up.

The weather is gorgeous and we did some gardening this morning. After some chores and fighting, we’re hanging out down here and thinking about the tent, even tho the eldest kid is mostly a real fucking shit today and I’m reconsidering everything. Anyhoo. After gardening and listening to the kids fuck about, I remembered to look up images of animal scat, AKA shit, as you do, and it turns out we have one big motherfucker shitting in our yard some of the time, maybe a stag but also maybe a fucking black bear. I’m sorry, what? What? What the fuck? I’m not going to put in the turd pictures but you get the idea.

Anyhoo, black bears are cool, or so I hear. Actually, I have heard nothing for the last 6 six years that we’ve lived here, so, cool, I guess… Anyhoo, bells and whistles (and bear spray) all ’round, I guess.

To the rescue


It’s Time To Camp

And by camp, I mean glamp. Husband put up the tent earlier today and after a few hours of knuckleheads going crazy in it, it’s still standing so we have to sleep in it after all. 5yo keeps asking if it’s bed time yet. Of course, that is up to him. “Just go to bed already” works for me. We brought down the mattresses – yes, mattresses – and sleeping bags, pillows and toys. Husband is leaving it to the last minute to take his sleeping bag out there, because he wants to accidently on purpose fall asleep in our bed, instead.
We then let the boys watch some tv and eat chips to settle down, and 3.5yo promptly fell asleep. I woke him for dinner and he reinforced the baby-isms by being grumpy and pouty and adorable and needing to be cuddled to eat his dinner. Husband just rolled his eyes, jealous much?
We have a fun day planned tomorrow which may or may not be thwarted by sleeping in a tent with three boys. If the weather is good then it’s off to BMX, if not, then it’s back to the concentration camp that is ‘Gardening Camp’ in the backyard. The boys have robbed me of my will to live on occasion over the past few days, due to their whimpering and complaints of prickles or bugs. Mostly they played while I tilled the planter box and dug and weeded. I was telling Mum all about this wonderful week of Gardening Camp, but after looking at my list, my accomplishments have paled somewhat. There are 11 things on the list; 1 of them was done before the camp, 2 others were properly done and 2 more were half-heartedly half-assed. Which means that I’ve done jack shit, and now I need a wine. At least camping means no chores, right??

Camping Out

I have just pledged to camp out on June 28. That is a Saturday and will be during the school holidays. Luckily, this was already on my list of things to do during the break, so I am somewhat mentally prepared to be camping with 3 boys, ages 7 and under. We also have a camp shower just begging to be used, laying in wait in the pantry, and the boys will love that. Actually, Husband and I love it, too. We have no close neighbours, so nuding it up and running outside to use a pitiful shower tube is (what the?) kind of fun. Add in a few glasses of wine and it will be a blast.
Weather permitting, we can do some star gazing, and if the ipad ever starts working again, useless piece of fuckery that it is, we will use the app that tells us which star is what and where the satellites will be. Then the nocturnal birdlife will come out and scare us all to pieces and we will burrow down in our sleeping bags, or doonas and throw rugs and pillows and stuffed animals, whichever applies.
It will also give us practice for when we go real camping over the Independence Day long weekend. Miles from anywhere and we have to bring in everything, including our own firewood. And machetes, since Husband took pleasure in telling me that there will probably be rattlesnakes. Bloody hell.
Anyhoo, what a fun weekend.