"Camping"
Originally, I was supposed to be on the road this week, on my way to DragonCon in Atlanta, with a stop in Hershey, PA for Kate's amusement. When we decided we didn't have it in us to attend yet another convention this summer, I told Kate we'd go camping instead. She was very interested in a camping trip with me.
That is, until this past week arrived soaked in rain. We're not talking Seattle-typical, rain that settles over everything like a heavy mist, but storming rains downpouring over everything. Kate was bummed, but accepted that camping in the rain would really suck.
Yesterday was a beautiful, warm, rain-free summer day. Under Kate's prodding, we set up our little two-man tent in the back yard and she and I slept outside last night. Not exactly the same as camping in the woods, but good enough for Kate, who was gleeful. She read me a bedtime story (two pages from Judy Blume's Blubber) and then we fell asleep counting planes that passed overhead. Kate got to six before she was snoring away, I counted fifteen before I drifted off. I honestly don't notice the air traffic much from inside the house, nor do I notice it during the day, but outside last night it was clear we're directly under a landing/take-off route for SeaTac.
Kate slept like a rock and happily bounded out of the tent, into the house, to eat Trix and watch cartoons. I slept less soundly, and woke up cold. Under real camping circumstances, I'd plant myself beside a campfire and drink coffee, but there are no campfires to be found. I guess I'll have to settle for a hot shower.
That is, until this past week arrived soaked in rain. We're not talking Seattle-typical, rain that settles over everything like a heavy mist, but storming rains downpouring over everything. Kate was bummed, but accepted that camping in the rain would really suck.
Yesterday was a beautiful, warm, rain-free summer day. Under Kate's prodding, we set up our little two-man tent in the back yard and she and I slept outside last night. Not exactly the same as camping in the woods, but good enough for Kate, who was gleeful. She read me a bedtime story (two pages from Judy Blume's Blubber) and then we fell asleep counting planes that passed overhead. Kate got to six before she was snoring away, I counted fifteen before I drifted off. I honestly don't notice the air traffic much from inside the house, nor do I notice it during the day, but outside last night it was clear we're directly under a landing/take-off route for SeaTac.
Kate slept like a rock and happily bounded out of the tent, into the house, to eat Trix and watch cartoons. I slept less soundly, and woke up cold. Under real camping circumstances, I'd plant myself beside a campfire and drink coffee, but there are no campfires to be found. I guess I'll have to settle for a hot shower.
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