Thursday, August 17, 2006


Do you know what blogging feels like some days? Camping. We're just friends, sitting around a fire and telling stories.

One of my fondest memories involving my Father was the day he took all of us kids camping. There were seven of us, my cousins and I, against the only adult brave enough to take us into the wilderness. Dad picked out a spot for the tents at the bottom of a hill while we unloaded the coolers full of bacon, eggs, cokes, and Smore fixings. I argued that we should set up camp closer to the lake, but he assured me that he knew what he was doing.

And then it rained. We all scattered to our tents to get out of the storm and found... the insides of our tents were soaked too. Evidently rain likes to form rivers down hills when it rains. Who knew?! Pfft. By the time we realized what was happening it was too late to set up camp elsewhere. The river running through our tents had made them too heavy to lift. With nowhere dry to stand I begged my Dad to take us home. He responded by pushing a picnic table into the main tent.

"Sit," he barked at us. We huddled, shivering and complaining on that table while he rummaged through his truck. When he came back there was a deck of cards in his hand. "What's that for?" I asked. "Poker," he said. That night we stayed up until the storm cleared, although it wasn't because we were bothered by the rain. We had stopped caring long before that happened. We were too busy having fun, playing Poker in the rain on a picnic table in a tent. Even the littlest, barely four, got in on the fun.

My Father wasn't a wise man. He often did stupid and dangerous things. He wasn't particularly good at being a parent either. He acted more like that crazy uncle everyone has. But sometimes, just when I thought he'd failed me yet again, he would come through and save the day. I lived for those moments. What "save the day" memory sticks out most in your mind? Pull up a log, sit by the fire, tell me if the fish are biting, and join me in some blogger camping.

Fun Fact: "Kumbaya, my Lord" started out in the 1920s as a Gullah spiritual sung on the islands of South Carolina between Charleston and Beaufort. "Come by here, my Lord" in Gullah is "Come by (h)yuh, my lawd." American missionaries probably took the song to Angola after its publication in the 1930s, where its origins were forgotten. In the late 1950s the song was rediscovered in Angola and returned to North American where it swept the campfire circuit as a beautiful and mysterious religious lyric.

My Happy Thought: I couldn't help but feel blue last night on the way to my parents. Not having Hoop home is starting to get to me. Work is well... work. The house situation is dismal at best. My realtor continues to push that we should lower the price. Meanwhile she's not pushing my house at all. Who has an open house and doesn't advertise? So I wasn't in the greatest mood when I pulled onto my parents' road. And then I saw Big Bit.

He was parked at the stop sign with his Go Kart. I pulled up and rolled down my window. He revved his engine and gave me a shit-eating grin. "You can't be serious!" I laughed. He nodded and revved the engine again. "I have a V8!" I called out to him. Suddenly he was gone, shot off in a burst of speed and gas. I pushed down on the peddle, closing the distance between us in a matter of seconds. "How fast am I going?" He screamed over the noise. "30 mph," I lied. His grin widened as he slammed on the gas again, peeling into the driveway ahead of me.

More August Search Terms (Again):
(What people put into search engines that bring them here)
1. vibrating underwear alarm That's one way to get up in the morning.
2. Shamu soundtrack Wouldn't that just be a bunch of clicks and whistles?
3. "poet nymph" There wasn't supposed to be an "o" on the end of that was there?

Days Til Hoop's Back: 7

P.S. I haven't forgotten about the birthmark picture I promised you all. I just haven't been home to load it. Mark it as one of my, "Coming Attractions." hehe


At 17 August, 2006, Blogger Chelle Y. said...

I loved that memory of your camping experience. I bet all your cousis remember that day too!

I am sorry that the house selling isn't going so well. That adds so much pressure to a person's life. I hope things start getting better soon!

Cute story about Big Bit too!

At 17 August, 2006, Blogger Jay said...

Next time Big Bit want's to race you should run up behind him and "bump" him. Ok, maybe not. But you can lay on the horn, flash the lights and yell "Get out of the way!"

It just so happens that I was up at the lake yesterday and took a little trip down memory lane. So, my post tomorrow will be my camping story complete with pictures!

Loved the camping story. And those moments when parents really do come through are really great moments.

At 17 August, 2006, Anonymous OddMix said...

Great story, Tink.

Leave it to a little brother to break through the blues. You have got to fire that realtor and get a new one.

At 17 August, 2006, Anonymous wordgirl said...

I'm really trying to think about something that saved the day. Meanwhile I gotta tell you that the idea of playing cards in a tent while it's raining outside is beyond charming. I figure our parents did the best they could with what few tools they had, and it often wasn't enough to make us feel safe or confident or loved. Still...that story you told made me feel all warm inside.

At 17 August, 2006, Blogger Betty said...

Loved your camping story. The only way I like to camp is at a Hilton Hotel somewhere, with room service.

At 17 August, 2006, Anonymous kreints said...

It sounds to me like you would do a better job selling your house than this so called Realtor?

I am sure that if you were to complain enough they would let you out of your contract. If you are bothered by this agent...amd need/want to sell you house... take action!

At 17 August, 2006, Anonymous mamatulip said...

I might have to come back for my 'save the day' story. I'm drawing a huge's that time of day.

I love your story though -- the one about your father and the one about BigBit. Those are great stories.

At 17 August, 2006, Blogger Newt said...

Come to Newt's campfire tomorrow for a story. Smore's will be served.......

Your Big Bit story reminds me of the commercial with the dad who drives his car up the road while his son races along on his bike. I get teary every time......

At 17 August, 2006, Blogger graymama said...

My mother, realtor extraordinaire says you should be able to find a new person to represent you and Hoop.

I posted how my Father saved the day here.

At 17 August, 2006, Blogger Kell said...

I would go camping with you any time; you have the best stories.

Hmmmm, story where someone saved the day. I'll have to think about that.

At 17 August, 2006, Blogger EE said...

I loved your camping memory. I'd love to go camping with you too and sit around the campfire...Good times :)

Man, I hope your house sells soon. ~*~~*fingers crossed for you~~*~*~*

At 17 August, 2006, Anonymous Susan said...

Your dad sounds like a great guy!

You need a new realtor BIG TIME!

At 18 August, 2006, Blogger mrspao said...

Great story. My mind is blank at the moment but I'm sure I'll think of something.

I think you really need to find a new realtor as having an open house with no advertising is appalling.

At 18 August, 2006, Blogger Mike Y said...

Ah Tink, I'm sorry about the house thing. Do you want me to come over there and hold up the sign in the ??? I will if you think it will help sell.

I love the search terms, especially the nympho part. Are you trying to tell us something Tink?

At 18 August, 2006, Blogger Freakazojd said...

Oh dear! Stinky realtors...uh...stink. Find yourself a good one, there are certainly lots of them out there who will do much better by you.
I loved your camping memories and your Big Bit story: family=the gamut. ;) Also, I laughed out loud at "poet nympho." Lady, I've said it before but I'll say it again: you are fun knee!

At 18 August, 2006, Blogger Chris said...

Hee hee - the Big Bit story is priceless!

Save the day stories - um, my mom sounds sort of like your dad in the parenting department. She was moody and unpredictible and tended to extremes good and bad. But occasionally she would do something that was fun/memorable/redeeming, like the day she picked me up from school and instead of going home, we went to Chicago to stay with her cousin for a few days and see David Bowie in the play The Elephant Man...


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