Good morning, my astute readers. If you’ve been keeping up with this “lifestyle column”, then you are sure to know that today is my final day camping with my grandson, granddaughter, grandniece, and three of her friends. It’s been a marvelous trip, though I had a touch of indigestion last night. Perhaps I overdid it on the pipinki mushrooms just a bit.
Yesterday we went on a long hike through the woods, and we spotted some squirrels and even a chipmunk. I’d swear I even saw a lark bunting, the state bird of Colorado, even though it’s not native these parts. I was so proud of the way that my grandson Max took the time to show his six-year-old little sister Fiona where to look up in the trees to see the birdies, and how he carried her on his shoulders when we were crossing a stream. What a terrific big brother! I’ve said it before and I’ll say it again: When Max is old enough to be a father, he’s going to be a great one. He’s only 23 though, so he’s got a few more years yet.
While we were hiking, my grandniece Tricia and her friend Derek managed to get themselves lost again. Derek’s girlfriend Jessica became very upset, but I think it was mostly because she’s pregnant. You know how emotional pregnant women can be, on account of all those hormones. Tricia and Derek somehow found their way back to the campsite before the rest of us; when we got back, they were already in the trailer. I teased them both for having no sense of direction (especially Derek, because he used to be in the Army), but I thought that it would be a great learning opportunity to teach them how to use a compass. I also taught them the difference between a compass and a compass rose. On the trip up to the campground, Derek and Jessica followed the rest of us in his Camaro, so when we leave in a few hours, I’m going to make Tricia ride with him instead and navigate, and the rest of us will follow them in my Caliber. That should teach them how to keep from getting lost.
Until next time!