Thursday, May 19, 2011
so, Father took himself on a bit of a fishing trip.
with so many amazing childhood memories, I can say for certain that within the top 5 fondest are the "fishing" trips Father used to take us on. while I don't recall getting around to much fishing, I do remember demanding that Father go "speedy fast", awesome wipe outs while tubing, lots of pop and other junk food, and more than anything making memories that continue to make me smile.
our trips (sans Mother who would stay behind to take care of little babies too small to go or big babies too risky to leave to their own devices in an empty home) started early early early~ the hey crack of dawn. we would drive to Savanna, Illinois where my grandparents lived, and from there we'd hop on ye ol' Mississip and seek out a camping spot. while we sat and ate or walked around exploring, Father would set up camp. tents, little grill, coolers, sleeping bags, backpacks...Father organized it all while we looked on. (seriously. can you say lazy punks??)
after camp was settled, we'd get back in the boat for some "fishing" fun. I don't know if we even had poles with us. I do know that regardless of the temp, we'd get in the water. tubing, bobbing around, skiing...we did it all (I'm sure Father was very proud of our physical abilities!!) after we were all waterlogged and becoming miz, we'd head back to camp and get ready for nighttime bonding...huddling around a campfire talking and laughing, can you imagine anything more fun?? I've had my share of fun and I can say honestly that very little can compare.
next morning, Father was up nice and early cooking his famous eggs and cheese. each time they were THE best thing I'd ever tasted. a little better than the time before, but undoubtedly not quite as good as the time to follow. after another day of water fun, we (and by "we" I mean Father. obviously.) packed up camp and headed to Grandma and Grandpa's. cards. dice. Manny's pizza. beds with electric blankets and the tightest, most pristine hospital corners you've ever seen. Grandma's perfume powder in the upstairs bathroom...all the things memories are made of. and all the things that made our childhood what it was. perfect. and it truly, truly was.
so now I see Father's got a new set of camping buddies. I guess I can't blame him. they probably help him set up/take down. I'm sure they allow him time to do the fishing he wants to do. they are probably better conversationalists. proably only half of them whine about being too cold/hungry/hot/tired... I'm sure they have a great time together. but deep (deeeeep) down, I bet Father wishes it was us there. ;)