My first mistake this year was to let my husband be in charge of the kid's packing.  As I left for work my youngest reminded me to wash a load of her clothes and bring them up with me.  My husband decided at the last minute to go and get the mini dirtbike off of layaway, but came home with the mini, a youth sized ATV and a full sized dirt bike!  Well, there goes his downpayment for his Harley.  'Don't worry honey, I'm sure the guys will still let you join their Harley club with the dirt bike, just change the sticker' I told him.  That would be quite a sight, Steve looks like a Shriners clown on the dirtbike, its poor little shocks were all maxed out.  Everytime he approaches a hill I call out to the bike 'I think I can, I think I can!'  Steve will probably run me over the next time (if he can get up enough speed that is) but its sooooo funny to watch.

My plan to send the chili up on Friday night so the air would be clear of the after affects by the time I got up there.... didn't work.  The whole camp had gas sooo bad I was afraid to light a match.  It was pretty cold up there so we were able to test my theory about farts making steam when they hit cold air (the way breath does...) the answer is... no, farts do not steam up in cold air!  At least chili farts don't.  They do, however smell just as bad and linger longer.

This was a black powder club campout in Florence.  The scenery is stunning and we go there every Memorial weekend.  Many of the campers are re-enactors and dress up as Union or Confederate soldiers, mountain men or Native Americans.  We have the outfits to dress as Natives, but those are our Pow Wow outfits and are not appropriate to wear for something like this.  My boys were the only ones from our family participating in the shooting events this year, they were firing cannons and a mortar.  Someone had a cannon that shot bowling balls and since the boys brought along 4 balls they were able to shoot them as well.  That was a hoot.  They also shot a can of peas from the mortar.  Yep, a real can of peas!  It split open when it landed.  The hopes was that it would split at the intial blast and shower the 'pea' all over the audience, but that didn't happen.  Next year they'll try a thinner can, or maybe partially open it before launching it.  The girls got to launch a couple of potatoes from a catapault, that contraption was pretty cool!

We came prepared for the stinky sock issue.  I had 2 bags of new socks, and a container of footpowder.  Those kids had soooo much powder in their shoes that they let off a little poof of dust everytime their feet touched the ground.  But no more stinky socks this year!

It was a wonderful weekend, but the funniest thing happened on the way home on Monday afternoon.  My kids had gone behind the cannon range and dug up some old cannon balls.  These cannon balls aren't as big as they show on the movies.... big as bowling balls.... they are about the size of golf balls and tennis balls.  But they are very heavy.  The tennis ball sized cannon ball weighs 8 pounds, and is considered a prize find by my children.  My oldest daughter found 2 and her brother snatched one from her in the truck and wouldn't give it back.  He kept tossing it up and catching it, taunting her.  She sat there fussing... "Mom, make Art give me back my cannon ball!"  I was getting mad by now, its hard to drive a big pickup loaded down with 2 dirt bikes, an ATV, and tons of camping gear... making sure nothing fell (instructions to the kids... If you see a dirt bike bouncing down the road behind us without a rider, that is a BAD thing, and let me know so I can pull over!).   So I threaten to pull over right there and get their dad involved.  Right at that moment Art looked away and missed the cannon ball.  The 8 pound ball of lead dropped right into his lap.  His head went down and his knees went up as he howled.  And me, being the wonderful loving mother that I am, I got on the radio and said.... 'Hey Steve, guess what, Art just dropped an 8 pound cannon ball on his balls!'.  Poor Art was laughing and crying at the same time.  But he still wouldn't give his sister the cannon ball.  After that I think he deserved to keep it.

Our next campout will be the 3rd weekend in June.  I'll only be able to go up for the day since I work on Friday and Sunday... but thats okay.  Steve can take the kids, and I'll probably have more fun here in the peaceful house by myself.