dearest,

You are transforming before our very eyes! A-mazing.

Camping was good. In spite of the following laundry list of Things That Happened:

*J.Lo threw out his back/shoulder.

*bug bites galore – nothing worked, not the homemade experiment of mine, not the laden-with-poison brand, not the anything in between.

*N.Lo scraped the bottoms of his toes while swimming and couldn’t walk for a day – by which I mean he screamed bloody murder if we so much glanced in the direction of his feet.

*late Sunday night I took K.Lo back to our tent for bed and a 4-foot black snack was crawling UP the entranceway mesh – I mean. yes. that really happened. I immediately dispatched a small crew to do away with thing, never thinking that it would end up dead, but apparently it got a little defensive and so that’s how it ended. 

Otherwise, no-yes, I do love camping. Saturday night was indeed packed full of campers, but the camping culture is basically chill and there’s something about meandering through the sites and the pop-ups with their little porch lights. and the stars and the campfires and the night sounds and everyone just doing their own thing. ah.

I like this campsite less than fairystone because the trails aren’t as awesome – or are they. We haven’t yet had a chance to explore, between swimming and whateverelsewedo. But the pet fee is sooo much less. Tradeoffs.

I’m reading (finished soul-selling, also another dishy YA, am onto a 9/11 book by my favoritest author EVER). I’m sewing – okay planning to sew. something. can’t decide? daydreaming about hammocks in the shade. avoiding FB bcs I’m in that phase of it’s-all-too-much, establishing my leadership with the new church council and attempting not to overthink it. which as you know for me is virtually impossible. and still dodging the phone number bullet, in spite of best efforts by the neighbor to lure us in to her drama. it’s one of those things that aggravates my “helping a neighbor” instinct – but no excessive drama allowed. like you know that line between someone who is in need and someone who really wants to be in need? I just can’t abide the latter and put up a wall to block it out. so when she comes a-knockin’ with her histrionics and asks J.Lo – who as we previously noted threw out his back – to help pick up her husband who fell, I’m more annoyed than sympathetic. which is sort of terrible and yet? gut instinct is that she’s clamoring for attention and not truly in need of help. gut instinct is that this is toxic and bullshit and a gateway to her calling in the middle of the night with worse “problems.”

so anyway it sort of delighted me that j.lo grumpily advised, “um, if you need to call an ambulance, call an ambulance.”

and did she? no. she found some other neighbors to drama-snare, and apparently everything was fine because not 10 minutes later she was walking her dog up the street. by herself. husband apparently inside and well.

gut instinct. just saying.

the garden is growing, including the encroaching and never-subsidable grass, as someone (me) forgot to layer newspaper below the mulch. need more tomatoes, some cucumbers and possibly corn. but where to put it all, hmm.

bookclub wants to read 50shades for july and I’m digging in my heels.

also. I’ve been fake-recycling since we’ve lived here? as discovered yesterday. and am still puzzling over why j.lo never mentioned that there’s no place to sort plastics, papers and glass.

I might have been enraged over this realization, briefly. or for a whole day.

um anyway. I need to freshen up the hummingbird sugar-water and boil up some weed killer. and sew another pair of shorts. or something? and other summertime things that i try not to loathe but just do.

love you,

pen