More Holiday Scotsman Glamping

As promised, I’d like to share photos from the inside of my 1962 Scotsman Scottie during my last campout at Tyler State Park’s Pineywoods Christmas in the Park event.  I tried to make the most of every inch of the ten-foot interior.  For the outdoor décor, click here.

Hope you enjoyed my little tour!  In case you’re wondering, all décor is courtesy of my sisters, mother, friends, Dollar General, Big Lots, thrift stores, and my own home. 
Happy New Year!  May it be abundantly blessed.


Ten Reasons I Go Glamping

Me in costume.

I love camping like a girl, glamour-camping, or glamping as it is known these days.  This kind of camping doesn’t require a camp stove, campfire, or sleeping bags.  It doesn’t even require cooking or any kind of “roughing it.”  It’s camping for girls, and I love it.  Why would a woman who likes being clean, who doesn’t tolerate the heat, and loves evenings in her favorite chair want to leave all that behind, get dirty and sweaty hooking up a trailer, pulling it, possibly having to back it, and then unhooking it and setting up all the décor and power and water at a campsite?  I’ll tell you why!

For me, glamping means:

1.   Time away from family, job, home, and even church responsibilities.

Friends and me out shopping.

2.   New friends at every event.

3.  Getting to dress up in costume.

4.  Getting to decorate my camper like a playhouse.

5.  Me time.

6.  A sense of independence from pulling a trailer on my own.

7.  A sense of accomplishment from pulling, backing, and parking a trailer.

8.  The camaraderie of a wonderful group of women from all walks of life.

9.  Visiting new places, especially small towns.

10. Laughing and having fun.

Of course, you don’t have to go glamping to experience all this. You could just grab your group of friends and go somewhere together.  But there’s something about sitting outside at a campground, sometimes around a fire, sharing stories and jokes and confidences with women who appreciate you for who you are at that moment without knowing all your history and baggage.  There are no expectations and no preconceived notions, just living in the moment.  That’s my favorite part of glamping.  And when I’m tired, or just want to be alone, all I have to do is go for a walk or duck inside my camper.  No one judges, and I can get lost in my own little world, my own little vintage camper.

My sweet camper, Miss Millie, all decked out.

Mandatory stop at Buc’ee’s

How about you?  How do you get your me time?


glamping teaching

Not quite ready to die. . .not just yet!

A student once asked me if I wanted to die.

“Pardon me?”  I looked up from my desk where I was grading papers to see him standing in front of me.
“Do you want to die?” he repeated.
“Is that a threat or a rhetorical question?”
“I’m just asking because you’re older and you couldn’t possibly have as much fun as you did when you were young like us.”
“Oh, really.  (Insert name here), you will be surprised to know that I have more fun now than I ever did when I was your age.”
And that’s the truth.  Just check out these photos. . .
Barbie Bash Birthday Camp Out
Silly me as Junk Gypsy Barbie
Two friends as Surgeon Barbie and Sleepytime Barbie
Fall Festival Camp Out
Several of us attending a local fall festival.  That’s me on the right.
One of the attractions was a performing pig!
Me and my dollhouse!
Mardi Gras Camp Out
My Mardi Gras costume!
Me with a friend and a jester found at a thrift store!
Me with Dixie, our fearless leader!  Love her purple wig!
Some of my glamping decor. . .

Luck o’ the Irish Camp Out

All the petticoats line up for a photo.
Me in the center with two wonderful new friends.
Ready for the celebration.
Who says middle-aged adults can’t have fun?  Girls still just want to have fun, even at our age.  At our monthly campouts we get to dress up in costume, and we get to decorate our dollhouses (campers).  
What do you do for fun?  Teenagers haven’t cornered the market.  Fun can be had at all ages.

Lights On Lights Off

Last I wrote I left you thinking that I had finally made it to the campground and was set up and ready for the night.  Uh, think again.   I got all settled in, rearranging and putting back all the things that moved and were put away during my travels, and was just about to don my comfy pajamas and watch an episode of Doc Martin when BAM. The power went off.
With a sinking feeling I peaked out the window to see if it might be the campground, but alas, all the other campers and campsites were lit.  It was just me.  What the heck?
I used the light of my phone to find my flashlight and then the breaker box in the cabinet over the sink.  Flick, flick, flick, flick.  Nothing.  Maybe it was the power pole. 
I went out to the power pole and flicked its breaker on and off.  Nothing.  Maybe it was my extension cord.  I unplugged and plugged.  Nothing.  Hm. . .
I thought of trying an appliance at the pole to see if I could determine if it was them or me.  I carried a little heater out there and plugged it in to my extension cord and the pole.  The heater worked.  Now what?
I remembered seeing a phone number posted on the office door for after-hours assistance so I walked down to the office and dialed the number on my cell phone.  Voice mail.  I left my message, a plea for help, and started the walk back to my trailer.  The manager called me back before I got there.
Imagine this in the dark. . .
Soon one of the maintenance guys arrived to assist me.  It was after 10 p.m.  He tried everything I had already tried, and a half hour later, apologized, saying that there was an RV service guy who would probably come the next day.  I could get his number at the office. 
I thanked him, called my husband for the twentieth time (I exaggerate), this time so tired I could barely speak.  He urged me to get a hotel but I told him I was so tired that I was just going to fall in my bed, power or not.  I did just that.  Thankfully there was a nice cool breeze off the lake so I cranked opened my delicate vintage glass windows for the first time and lay down, clothes and all.
“Why me, Lord?  Why did all this have to happen today?”  I prayed, exhausted.
Think of Job and what he went through, He replied ever so quietly and gently.
“You’re right,” I replied.  “Please forgive me for complaining, and thank you for getting me here safely.”
With that short prayer, I closed my eyes for a fitful night, waking to birds chirping in the morning.
Another blessing.  I would not have heard the birds if my fan had been on and my windows closed.  And I certainly would not have heard the Lord’s reminder if everything had gone like I thought it should have.
Stay tuned. . .

Broke Down But Not Broken

A funny thing happened on the way to my last campout.  My car broke down.  Actually it wasn’t funny at all.  It was awful.  150 miles from home, I waved my caravan pals on as I waited for the tow truck.  I didn’t have to wait long, thank goodness.  I mean, thank the Lord.  Soon my truck was loaded onto a flat bed truck and my camper was hooked up to the back of the truck.  I gasped as the young driver tried to level the camper by yanking the bumper first up and then down hard.  I wanted to scream, “Easy!  She’s old!”  (She’s a 1962 Scotsman.)
He hauled us (me in the cab) to a nearby Ford dealership where I waited for three hours for them to replace the water pump in my SUV.  At first they told me they wouldn’t be able to fix it that day, but then they said they could.  I was so grateful that I didn’t have to find a hotel room and leave my trailer overnight in a parking lot that I waited patiently.  By the time they rolled my car and trailer around it was past closing time and I was starving.  I couldn’t wait to get back on the road and drive the remaining 100 miles, but I couldn’t until I paid them $900.  Ugh.  What a way to start a vacation.
The drive to the campground was uneventful except for the fact that it got dark on me.  I rolled in a little after 8 p.m. where a friend met me and helped me find my camping space.  Later several friends helped me back in and set up. 
Me and a fellow camper before I found out my power went off.  Happy to be at the campground!
But my troubles weren’t over.  I had finally straightened my camper and was ready to put on my pajamas and collapse when the power went off.  A quick check out the window let me know that it was my trailer, not the campground.  Ugh. Now what?  Can’t a girl get a break?
Stay tuned to find out what happened next. . .