Not really. But that little skit from Saturday Night Live featuring Horatio Saenz, Jimmy Fallon, Chris Kattan, and Tracy Morgan playing and singing that little Christmas song makes me smile every time. Look it up on YouTube. “I don’t care what your mama says; Christmastime is here.”
It’s been a busy fall and summer. I’ve gotten out of the habit of posting and I promise to do better next year. A new year’s resolution, perhaps? But I get ahead of myself.
With camping (glamping), traveling (I went to Italy!), tutoring, and grandkids I seem to wear myself out every day! Consider these photos my Christmas card to you.
My setup at a Girl Camper event in Glen Rose, Texas.
Stella and me trying to stay warm at the campsite. She has become quite the little traveler!
Me at the Doge’s Palace in Venice. Behind me is the largest canvas in the world, Il Paradiso, by Jacopo Robusti. Amazing.
A gondola on the Grand Canal in Venice. The gondolier is behind me.
A partial view of Assisi.
The Trevi Fountain in Rome.
At the airport in Rome waiting for the long flight back. Do I look like a tourist? ; – )
Of course I have a million more photos from Italy but not many of just me!
Merry Christmas and a Happy New Year! May all your wishes and dreams come true!
It was a perfect weekend for camping–temps in the 80’s, fair skies. It was a bit windy so I really couldn’t set much outside but I managed to decorate my site and make it a glamping fit.
It was a Get’away Gals campout, so as is our custom we met Thursday evening for a “BYODinner” to catch up and play games and just enjoy being together again. I made plans to go to a flea market the next day with some of the ladies.
Friday morning after a rather fitful night I got up feeling a little off. I met the ladies and got into the car, but I soon recognized the odd feeling. It was a familiar ache. Kidney stone. We had to make one restroom stop on the way to the market. I chose denial and went shopping.
The kidney stone chose not to be ignored. I managed to buy a pair of earrings and another item but after two restroom visits it was time to say uncle. I asked my friend to take me back to the campground, a mere 40 minutes away. Nausea reared its ugly head and we had to stop again.
Finally back at my camper I rummaged around for the hydrocodone and tamsulosin prescriptions I’d gotten at the ER last year for the same problem. I always bring those drugs with me in case. I’m so glad I did.
I texted everyone in my family as I tried to decide what to do. Should I hook up my camper and try to make the two-hour drive home? (No way that would have happened!) Should I ask someone to pick me up? My sister and brother-in-law said they would come get me and my trailer. But then my son gave me the wisest advice. Stay put. Ride it out. Call 911 if I have to, or get a friend to take me to a clinic or ER.
After the medicine took effect, staying put was my only option. Thank God for my cozy, comfy little camper and my bucket potty. I slept most of the day and when I woke I texted a friend, asking her to bring me something from the potluck. I ate half of that and then slept until the next morning.
When I woke the back pain and urgency to use the bathroom were gone. I showered, dressed, and ventured to the clubhouse where a few ladies were hanging out. Had the stone actually passed?
I was good. Good enough to go on to the ballpark to watch my grandson play in his baseball tournament. It was a lucky coincidence that my camping event and his tournament were in the same town on the same weekend.
Back at the campground I attended the evening dinner, hooked up my camper, and drove home on Sunday with no problems. The stone was gone. Many had prayed for me, and I have no doubt that God in His infinite mercy intervened. But I can’t help having a lingering fear that I will have another stone on another campout or on a long trip. I won’t let that fear keep me from going, though. I know even in the darkness and pain, He will be with me.
I just returned from a camping trip I shouldn’t have gone on. (Yes, this former English teacher just ended a sentence with a preposition. I’m not ashamed.) Why would I say such a thing? What happened? Was there a camping catastrophe, a glamping goof, a trailer trauma? Nope, none of those. It was just too darn hot!
This campout was at a beautiful new campground in Oklahoma called the Do Drop Inn RV Resort at Lake Texoma. It isn’t actually on the lake, but it’s close enough to provide easy access. Maybe I should have taken advantage of the lake to cool off, but I didn’t, unfortunately.
You may be unaware that little vintage trailers like mine are not insulated. The only thing between you and the great outdoors is a layer of plywood and a thin layer of metal called the skin. I guess no one thought to insulate these little trailers. Maybe it would have made it too comfortable–more like being at home than camping. I don’t know, but my little trailer heats up like a tin box in the bright summer sun.
Don’t you have air conditioning? You bet I do. The last vacation I took without air conditioning was when I was a kid on a family vacation and I had no choice. That’s the summer I brought my Donny Osmond album to play at my cousin Donna’s house and it warped before we got there. You Gen X’s and Millenials probably don’t have a clue what I’m talking about. When vinyl gets too hot, it warps or bends, making the record almost impossible to play. (Search “warped record album” images and you’ll see.)
The problem is that the little portable unit that I have nestled under my dinette table in my camper just can’t keep up when the temps go above 90 degrees. I was comfortable at night but as the day heated up it got more and more uncomfortable. The first full day of camping I went thrift shopping and returned around 4:00 pm. I tried to rest but it was so uncomfortable in my camper that I quickly dressed for dinner (Denim & Diamonds was the theme) and headed to the clubhouse two hours early to escape the heat.
Although I enjoyed getting to see my camping friends, a few I hadn’t seen for over a year, I found this entire campout less enjoyable than others. It was just too hot to sit around outside a campfire or around someone’s camper, or even out on the deck and visit. Everything had to be done inside. Of course, that is also the case when it rains, but at least I’m not sweating. I could have hung out in the pool but I would have gotten sunburned since there was no shade there at all.
So what is the solution? Not going camping in September is the simplest solution. Maybe I could get someone to take the skin off my trailer and add insulation. Or maybe I could invent a giant popup canopy to park under. Or maybe I will pull that portable a/c unit out and install a window unit in one wall. I know one thing: camping in a vintage trailer in the bright summer sun ain’t for me any more. I’d just as soon be at home in the a/c looking at all the pictures of the campout on Facebook.
What about you? Do you enjoy summer camping, or like me, do you prefer cooler weather?
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.
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.