The girls and I went bear hunting this weekend.
Well, I think it was bear hunting. There was a lot of talk of bear poop (full of berries), bear tracks (an area that looks like some body or some thing slid down the hill on it's bottom), and driving around packed into my boyfriend's truck (he's cute and charming, I enjoy being smooshed up next to him). The hounds took off a couple of times... have you ever heard them before? Sounds pretty. I didn't see any bears, but Bay might have. I enjoyed every minute of it.
We camped by a pretty creek, went to sleep listening to the sound of it every night. Saturday night we spread out on the road, flat on our backs, looking up at the stars. There were so many, more than I've ever seen before.
We ate clam dip and chips for breakfast one morning and hot dogs and marshmallows cooked over the fire for dinner.
We listened to my boyfriend tell stories and make up songs and point out places along the river where people planted pretty little pot gardens next to their vegetables and old rusted appliances.
It was so much fun. I can't wait to go again. I love camping.