Dear Moose:
Swimming, golfing, running, sounds like you sure are living the California life. We are firmly entrenched in the life of the Oregon wilds (which is to say canning season is upon us).
We went cherry picking the weekend before last. We picked about 13 pounds. Your Father and I picked 5-6 pounds (which is to say that the Bear picked about as much as he normally does). I've put up one batch of jam so far. It failed to set up properly and shall be relabled syrup. And while tasty, the recipe called for the addition of cinnamon and clove, which makes my summer cherry syrup taste like Christmas. It's a bit strange. Think I'll scrap that recipe and try something different.
Raspberries are up next, the raspberry lavender jam always sets up so nice, I'll be putting up lots. That means when it comes time to pick Bear better find where he stores his motivation or else he is going to be at it all day.
Speaking of Bear and tasks and trials...
We shipped him off to Scout camp the day after cherry picking. He enjoyed the days of running around at the seashore doing "scouty" things, but became very homesick at night. Nights while very dark were also very cold and the tent wasn't exactly homey (which is to say not even remotely comfortable). Your father drove me out to the camp mid-week not just for the Bear, but because they needed more parental types, either way I would've gone (which is to say the boy was just that pathetic when he called home).
Bear had a rain slicker and a few long sleeve shirts, but no sweat shirts so he was chilly during evening meetings. I bought him a camp sweat shirt when I got there. He was also lacking a pillow because it didn't fit into/onto his pack. I brought him one. His sleeping bag wasn't warm enough, so I brought him an extra blanket. Once adequate warmth and comfort levels were achieved he had a rather nice time (which is to say he wanted his Mom). Sounds like I molly-coddled him, huh? Let me tell you...
Seven boys from our pack went to camp, so did four Moms and two Dads, with parents switching out during the week there was always at least three Moms in attendance. Before you think "hen-pecked" you should know that three out of seven of those boys are sans a Dad (which is to say if not on a permanent basis then darn close). All in all it was a good time and the boys from the pack if not always perfect gentlemen were always good boys... rambunctious at times, but not malicious. I wish I could say the same about the parents.
No one was out-and-out harsh, but man! I have never heard so much whispered nastiness. There were always comments about other parents and their parenting styles or other children that weren't living up to some set standard. And boy howdy! You couldn't win for trying! If you helped your kid out then well! Your child had maturity issues and if you didn't then you were a crappy parent (which is to say, I suck. See above: lack of pillow, blanket, and warm clothing). One poor boy forgot his hairbrush, couldn't find his toothbrush till the final day of camp, didn't have any spending money, and was, in general, floated a raft of crap all week.
Kids were drilled about manners and keeping their elbows off the table by parents whose children would belch thunderously at said table. One Mom told me I wasn't allowed to carry a boy's water bottle in my bag on a hike, because he had to learn responsibility, consequences, preparedness (pick one), but when her own child's lanyard water bottle holder broke she stuck his bottle in her bag without even thinking of his education in responsibility. consequences, and preparedness.
I remember my own days of camp when hairbrushes, toothbrushes, showers, yes even a goodly amount of manners were laid aside (which is to say you couldn't be rude, but elbows on the table... not a hanging offense) in the freedom of being away from home. Bah! I suppose by ranting about all this then I'm no better then those folks, so I'll leave off now.
Camp was what it should be in my estimation: uncomfortable sleeping conditions, horrific food, lots of dirt and silly songs. There were bad jokes, lots of farting, and lots of bad jokes about farting. We hiked (which to my surprise I really enjoyed), played on the beach, saw lots of deer, and even bears (which is to say a bear and her cubs wandered into our part of the camp looking for food- exciting, but not in a good way)! Most importantly, Bear had a good time so good enough!
Anyway, it's getting late so I'm gonna sign off. Can't wait to see you. I imagine you're more muscled and a good deal more tan then when we last saw you. We are still pudgy and pasty and slightly mildewed. I hope this finds you well and ready to come home (which is to say, I miss you bunches).
Love you,
Mom
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