Why I hate camping #2

June 12, 2012

Remember my post the other day on why I hate camping? When I said my father used to take us camping every year for a weekend at Letchworth State Park? Ironically, I just found these old photos from one of those trips. Some time in the mid 1960s.

These suitcases represent packing for four of us? Dad, me and my two siblings. Not bad, right? They sit in front of the house in which I grew up.

Thankfully, I am hidden behind my cousin and my brother and whomever that kid on the left is. Since I was camping, I wasn’t wearing my contact lenses. Or maybe I hadn’t gotten them yet, which would mean this photo was before my 16th birthday.  That was an eight-person tent. It smelled musty as hell and I had very little to do with putting it up. That’s why you see three boys in the photo.

There is no friggin way these things are anywhere near as comfortable as my cushy bed.

Just wanted to show you that yes, I actually did camp. A few times.

Leave a Reply

Your email address will not be published. Required fields are marked *

*

Follow Carol

Welcome!

Here you’ll find my blog, some of my essays, published writing, and my solo performances. There’s also a link to my Etsy shop for healing and grief tools offered through A Healing Spirit.

 

I love comments, so if something resonates with you in any way, don’t hesitate to leave a comment on my blog. Thank you for stopping by–oh, and why not subscribe so you don’t miss a single post?

Archives

Subscribe to my Blog

Receive notifications of my new blog posts directly to your email.