An abridged Tale

It seems as if I went in a fog, I know I was there last week frolicking in the redwoods with my little girls, but it seems so distant today. I started grad school this week. I've been looking for a good preschool for my little ones.

Was my trip all just a good dream? What did I do in that dream?

Let’s see. I think I’ll go back and re-read Friday’s post so I can remember where I left off.

Oh yes, I think I’ll finish with the last of my messy business and then go onto the good stuff (or I'll do a short report on the good stuff because well it's boring mushy stuff).

While camping, I learned that all good deeds never go unpunished. I had just finished day one with my kids. We’d spent the day by a creek and I’d happily let them roll around in the sand and get all dirty. For my efforts, I was sandy, suburned, but relaxed-- and oh so content.

On the way back from the river, I met this old man who proved to me that chivalry still exists. You see, my husband had sent me with his better, more efficient camping equipment-- the tent I couldn’t set up and this one burner stove I couldn’t light. Not being shy, I hailed down the old man and asked for his help. He tried. Nothing happened. We read the instructions. We followed the instructions. Nothing. Finally we decided it just didn’t work. There must be a secret fireman’s code to get it to stay lit. But at least now I'd made a friend. He was nice enough to check up on me every once in a while and to shoo my 7-year-old back to my camp whenever she took to wandering in the forest.

And so, instead of using the stove, I went primitive and cooked over the campfire (for real). Way back when I was still young and all my parts hung out int he right places, I used to camp and cook over a fire. It was exhilerating to be that close to nature. Now, with kids I didn't want to do this because the girls my be their dad who loves to play with fire.

That night, I went to bed happy, knowing that I wasn't completely alone. This other person knew we were here --if the bears came in the night and ate us someone would notice before the stink set in.

Later that night I heard a growling noise. It was loud, rumbly and coming from inside the tent. Nikki’s tummy was apparently trying to eat her esophagus in her sleep. I should have let sleeping babies lie. She wasn’t asking for a sippy of milk. She wasn’t even awake, but I got this warm fuzzy good mother feeling and decided it would be a good to make her some Ovaltine by flashlight.

With flashlight in hand, I opened the trunk and the ice chest-- setting the flash light and keys on top of some newspapers ( don’t forget those keys, I thought to myself). And so I made the sippy, took out a jug of water in case the other two woke up thirsty-- and then I looked up at this amazing sky.

Way up there a million fireflies burned just for me-- wow.

And then I shut the trunk. "Beep beep" went my car, signaling that it was safely tucked in for the night. Did I mention my keys were still inside the trunk? Darn those auspicious stars!

Not to worry. I have roadside assistance through Subaru. And so, I snuggled between Abby and Nikki, knowing everything would be OK.

The next morning I got up early, wrote my roadside assistance information down and waited for the forest ranger to make his rounds. I didn’t have to wait long. This forest service employee (boy who looked like he’d spent too may days surfing) pulled into the bathroom lot and I ran up to stalk him as he came out.

I explained my dilemma and he said he’d call the ranger.

“Uh I can’t get a good signal,” he said. “Sorry.”
“Wait,” I said. “I don’t get cell service out here. Do you have a phone where you work?”
“Yeah, but I’m not going there right now,” he said.
“That’s OK I can wait,” I said. “If I give you the information, will you just call my roadside service and have them send someone out here. I can wait as long as I know someone is coming.”
“Yeah, I guess,” he said.
“Please, promise me you will not forget because I have three small children and we need your help,” I said.
“Yeah, I’ll see what I can do,” he said.
“Just don’t forget,” I said.
“Are you checking out today?” he asked.
“No, I’m leaving tomorrow,” I said.
“I’ve got you down for today because you owe $3,” he said.
“You didn’t have a campground host and I didn’t have change,” I said. “I went to the store last night for change, but it was late when we got back so I figured I’d settle up in the morning.”
“Well, I need that money or you have to leave by noon,” he said.
“I will -- if I have my keys,” I said. “Don’t forget to make the call.”

Moments later the ranger appeared on scene. I gave him my information and he said that apparently I didn’t have roadside service (which I do-- the receipt is in the glove box, but that is beside the point. I needed those keys.) I made the mistake of telling him how much cash I had on-hand (not that I think he is unscrupulous-- I just think he told the tow company-- who in turn charged me the exact amount I had on hand $140 for five minutes work).

But I had my keys-- yeah!

I drove the kids to Heddywoods State Park where we explored the redwoods.

We visited Casper Beach several times and I played with the girls in the waves, built sand castles and searched for sea shells and pretty rocks. We roasted hot dogs on Van Damme Beachduring the day and then returned at night to roast smores -- right there on the beach-- at night with the ocean breeze and a night sky that stretched to the edge of the Earth.

Other activities included: riding the Skunk Train, going to Glass Beach, Merkerricher State Park to visit the seals and visits/tours of a bunch of light houses.

Each one of these events could be a chapter or a post, but I know you all have busy lives so I’ll finished up with a short discussion on smores over the campfire.

I grew closer to my daughters around the campfire with the flames hypnotizing them into quietness. We talked like mothers and daughters should talk. We roasted marshmallows and I just let them do it. If they burned them, so be it. Blackened marshmallows are a delicacy, I said. It was so peaceful-- and in that moment surrounded by my loves, I knew I was doing something right. I am a good mother -- I think that is the first time I have ever thought that.