Saturday, November 14, 2009

But for now, my down comforter and 14 pillows are a-callin

I remember when Shepherd was first born, I would hold him in my lap and gaze at his beauty. I delighted in every squeak, every gas smile, every jerky little hand motion to his angelic face. I could stare at him all day.

After about two weeks of this, my husband glanced at our precious creation as I inhaled another hit off my son's silky head. Then Walker yawned, stretched, scratched, and asked, "Soooo, when's he gonna get fun?"

Aghast, I cried out defensively, "What do you mean?? He is the most fun thing ever! Did you hear that burp? Did you see him try to suck his thumb yesterday? He is SO! FUN!"

Walker shook his head dismissively. "Nah. Seriously. When's he gonna get fun?"

I think my husband would agree that now, six years later, his son has fully achieved Fun Status. Because at this moment, they are in Bastrop State Park getting their Father/Son/Father's Best Friend From High School/Father's Best Friend From High School's Son Bonding Fun On.

And just as I felt a sweet stirring in my heart the first time Eva Rose and I went shoe shopping together, I believe Walker is having A Moment.

It all began with a trip to REI last night for supplies (if I find the receipt, I have said I will not look at it) while I washed the sleeping bag that has been sitting in our garage for lo these seven years, and a borrowed backpack (mean wife would not allow an investment in a new one until circumstances proved that camping would occur more frequently than once a decade.) Then, early this morning, they were off into the wilderness.

I have seen several facebook uploads like this one

and received one phone call, describing a meal of freeze dried lasagna and lots of giggles. "Are you having fun?" I asked. "Momma, I'm SPAZZING!" Shep assured me. I can only imagine.

I would say I wish I were there, but that would be a big fat lie. Yours truly is way, way, way too attached to indoor plumbing and white noise machines to be an outdoorsy kind of girl. I'm an indoorsy, hot showering, DVR watching in air conditioned comfort type of girl. And not ashamed to say so. As I flush my Cottenelle Ultra far, far away.

While the boys search for trees on which to pee, the girls and I have a mission. And a challenge.

For as my husband reluctantly lugged the many, many, many boxes of Christmas decorations down from the attic late last night, he declared, "I bet I come home and you haven't done jack. I bet all these boxes are still sitting right here unopened."

All right, Mountain Man, I'll see your decorations and raise you a load of laundry.

Here's the current status (excuse the crummy iPhone pix, my camera is currently sleeping under the stars):

The dining room:

The living area:

The kitchen table:

And oh, heaven help me, the garage:

I've miles to go, but I CAN DO IT!!
I am the little Christmas tree that COULD!!

Check in for an update tomorrow.

I think I can I think I can I think I can I think I can...


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