One Summer, after much begging for several years, Mama gave in and let me go to Camp Cosby, a Girl Scout Camp. I wasn't old enough to sleep in the tents, but shared a cabin with several girls.
I have such an odd jumble of memories from my camping adventure.
I remember how much I enjoyed the horse riding lessons. I remember being chased halfway back to our cabin by a black racer snake. I remember falling in the creek full of chicken feathers when we were getting on a raft to ferry to the other side. I remember when our cabin drew latrine duty and we had to clean the out houses. I remember we poked cotton in the holes in the screens of our cabin to keep the mosquitoes out. I remember how much fun it was to learn all the silly camp songs.
Even though I remember some pretty yucky things happening, I do know that it was an absolutely wonderful time that I had there, a time I wouldn't take anything for having experienced.
And I remember Mama and Daddy coming to get me early, because my first cousin had just had her baby, an event I had been excitedly anticipating.
I found out years later that Mama had just used that as an excuse, because she was so lonesome and worried about me being out in the woods. They never let me go again, and I never pushed for it either. I guess I knew when to leave well enough alone.
Oh, and I never did tell Mama and Daddy about the black racer or falling in the creek. I knew better.
nostalgia, childhood memories, summer camp