Camp Dogs

We’ve been out to camp, in an obscure town full of streams, ponds, and glacially decorated boulders. I have worm guts on the jeans I have been wearing for three days, I smell like wood smoke, and my hair is greasily matted in the strangest places.

I am a happy girl.

While my homebody nature prefers to be at home, surrounded by my most precious and familiar beings and things, camp is a state that exists as an extension of; minus the bills, nagging housework and chores, work, and the responsibility inextricably connected to home.

We set up camp late Friday night, and Matt woke early saturday to make breakfast and coffee while I snuggled with the dogs. Life is so hard sometimes. We didn’t have any luck fishing that morning, but we trailed along the river for a bit, stopped to have a snack on a moss-covered boulder, and headed back to camp. After lunch, camp coffee and a nap we headed out (dogs towing us) to walk a three or four mile loop up and down a hill. We followed the tracks (and scat) of a moose the entire time. Poor Sammie was very excited when we came upon a porcupine crossing the road. Luckily, that was the most excitement we encountered.

Upon return I took my reading spot while Matt made supper (see why I like it out here so much?!). We visited, snuggled with the dogs and…relaxed. It’s a weird feeling for us. I went to bed so early that I was the first one awake!

But now, it’s time to go. We’ve had a dance party, cleaned camp, and watched the dogs swim. I’m sitting in the car charging my phone and talking to you while I watch the sun dance off the pond. And while I’m reluctant to go home, I actually feel rested enough to take on another week. Happy Sunday, friends.

From Osborn,





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