Camping. In California. In February. In a yurt.

Dale has a big event at work this week so his schedule got moved around which meant he was home two days last week, worked the weekend, and then was off again Monday and Tuesday, which we all love because when he's here we party. He had this great idea. *Let's take the kids seperately for the day and then we'll surprise them and meet up somewhere and stay the night!*I used to be really spontaneous and fun and adventurous and fun and nice and fun. Now my initial response is always: a. what will it cost? b. how much work will I have to do to get there? c. how long will it take me to clean up after the fun's done? This must be natural for a mother of five, I would assume. I mean, I don't have documentation or anything, but I don't think it's impractical for me to consider the repercussions of anything that disrupts our regular routine. However... I learned early on in my relationship with Dale that he has a gift, and that is, he brings the silver lining into our lives. He spoils us. Being that we have been married now almost twelve years, I've learned to say yes first and then voice any reservations I have about his idea later after I've considered whether these reservations are worth voicing. It took me eleven and a half years to learn this. In those eleven and a half years, I have always said no first, disappointed everyone, changed my mind after I realized my reservations were not as important as whatever we were going to do, and then after the dream was crushed, we'd go ahead with the plan. You'd think I'd have gotten it a long time ago.

I don't know how he does it, but Dale always knows the best kept secrets of wherever we are. He can tell you what gas station has the best donuts, where the best hole-in-the-wall eating establishments are, and now, less than a year in California and he found the absolute best camp site of all time. Lake Cachuma, home sweet home.
The girls and I pulled up to the edge of this little peninsula where he sat on a picnic table in the shade while the boys ran back and forth to the lake throwing rocks into the water, watching the waterfall from our spout trickle down a crevice in the cliff, and throwing fishing worms at each other. I almost cried. There were mountains all around us. Most of the trees still had leaves, there was green grass everywhere. And best of all, we were the only yurt dwellers in the entire place. *there are only three yurts, but still...*

I have never been much of a camper, except where there was a clean and stable restroom within a few feet of my cabin. And a shower. And air conditioning. And cute boys, pre-college of course. I don't know what poison oak looks like. I don't know what to do about wild animals except to run at the site of them- which I just learned you DO NOT DO if you see a mountain lion. Dale asked me to bring something to grill and all I could think of was if I bring chicken, I'll have to bring a salad and forks and plates... we'll just go out.
This was a prime camping experience, my friends, and I am seriously having to fight myself off of thoughts of buying a piece of land on a lake, building a yurt, and planning monthly getaways with the crew. I'm much more experienced now. *next time I'll know to bring sheets. And hot dogs.*

It was so therapeutic just being outside in seventy-three degrees with the sun shining and the kids running and playing. I felt new after just a couple of hours in the fresh air and sunshine. It did get cold as soon as the sun went down. We had to bundle up to roast our hot dogs- the hot dogs we bought in the market of Santa Ynez. The hot dogs that ended up costing us four times the usual Wal-Mart price! Then we roasted marshmellows and made s'mores. It wasn't until after all the roasting was done that we heard something scratching in the trees just a couple of yards from our fire pit.
I reassured the kids that it was just a bird or squirrels while Dale went for the flashlight. Unfortunately for all of us, it wasn't a squirrel, it was huge, and looked white shimmying up the side of the tree. We scrambled to get the food put away and pile into the yurt to escape dangers of the wild. After everyone was safely inside, Dale cracked the door and shined his light outside only to find a huge raccoon scavenging the crumbs from our dinner right next to our yurt. We all took turns peaking out the door and running away squealing. He must've been thirty pounds and accustomed to people because Dale tried to scare him away and the it didn't phase the rascal.
By seven o'clock we were all up and getting dressed because it was freezing. They gave us a space heater when we checked it, but we were both nervous about leaving it on all night in the mostly wood dwelling, next to our wooden bunk beds and with all the pillows and blankets that get dropped in the night. I don't know why we were worried though, because Dale and I both woke up about every five minutes to try to find a more comfortable or warm position on our bunk. We would've caught the smoke before the fire if there was any danger.

Dale started packing the car as soon as his shoes were tied, despite our efforts to take it slow. It was just too cold and with no sleep our patience was burning up pretty fast. When we got home we both said we felt like we had been on vacation, even though we were back within twenty-four hours of leaving the house. It was just one more of God's simple blessings to get us through just a little bit longer.