So, Labor Day rolled around and it was announced that every one of my brothers and sisters were going to the cabin. That is 18 adults and 35 children... Sadly my work schedule is made six weeks ahead of time and I had already been scheduled to work.
But grandpa was not about to let his grandkids be left out of all the craziness, so right after school on Friday I packed everyone up in camp worthy attire and they loaded up in Grandpa's van, I told him I thought he was crazy. But he headed up the mountains with all my kids anyways.
I sent the camera with Taylor for documentation. They all came home and told about the food, so I guess there was something fantastic about the mounds and mounds of food.
My kids all got to sleep inside the cabin, probably to the unhappiness of some.
They told me they pretended they were indians in the trees somewhere behind those trees is a lake that they were taken out in the canoes by adventerous aunts and uncles.
They played and played with new cousins and cousins they hadn't seen in a while. Friendships were made and renewed.
The boys stayed up late into the night telling ghost stories (according to them, according to my father, they stayed up talking about and making bodily noises who do you believe??)
Obviously it wore them out whatever they were doing.
They sat around the campfire and sang songs, roasted marshmallows and were treated to a coyote story by nana and grandpa.
At the end of the day I think they had a wonderful weekend, and they came home as dirty as they could possibly be and stunk to high heaven of campfires. Every one of them in dire need of a good bath.
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