I'm alive I'm alive!
So last week was crazy. but fabulous. and by fabulous I mean really fabulous.
Tuesday and Wednesday: I got to head up to the mountains to be a "special guest" for my mothers workshop at girls camp [and, yes, I live in the mountains...but I'm talking like Yosemite Park type mountains]
Both days I had to head up in the early afternoon, so, because Fresno is the opposite direction, my loving father gave me the days off work. We brought up cute mismatched plates and cups for the girls and had cupcakes to go along with the set up [cupcakes make everything cuter. always.] Then I ended up staying a little longer than was probably necessary both days due to all kinds of letter-writing, good conversation, and general splendor.
Part 2: Then Wednesday, after I'm sure I had nearly overstayed my welcome, I headed home. I stopped at the thrift store because Zane and I had premier tickets to HP7 and I still needed an outfit.
Then I got the call that changed my life.
Ok, maybe not my whole life, but it certainly changed my week. I got the call that a counselor had gotten sick. and had to leave. and they needed somebody to fill in.......soooo......... I, naturally, sprinted home to throw t-shirts and a sleeping bag in my car and headed for the hills! [and called that sweet-awesome boss of mine to ask for two more days off] I was a little nervous at first. I mean I was taking somebody's place, and that's never easy. And it was evident right away that the girls loved her. And I was majorly lacking in life experience and wisdom in comparison to my co-counselor [who has somewhere in the ballpark of 9 children, but not a mean bone in her body]. But then I came to the cabin with "u rok" written in playdough and little one clinging to my arm, and all was well.
I only was a counselor from Wednesday night to Friday morning, but we sure packed in a few things.
I got to experience yet another faith walk.
And watch sa-weeeeet skits like "socks with sandals" by Miss Melissa.
But my favorite part was spending time with my cute first years.
And helping them plan home evening lessons for their grandma.
Or have six of them pile into my bed to tell boy stories.
And telling them all about how there are good boys out there.
And why waiting to date boys is good.
And doing what you know is right.
Things I learned:
Everything happens the way it should.
HP7 was apparently epic, but my little first years will only have one 1st year of camp.
I learned that twelve year old girls LOVE taking pictures of you.
All the time.
Even though you're at camp and looking kinda rough.
But you love them enough that you don't really care.
I learned that my brother is a big hit with the ladies. apparently. He's still my "bub" all the same.
apparently [in a twelve year olds eyes] my biggest flaw is that I don't have a boyfriend.
[who ever knew that was a flaw?]
and according to a little darling from Mexico, my accent isn't too horrible for being a gringo.
[have I subsequently thought of making spanish my major? maybe.]
[is my life goal accomplished? Possibly]
Mostly, I remembered how much I love camp.
And really, I was just another happy camper.
Be a happy camper this week, would ya?