Meet Me in Montana ...

 

     I go to bed, Summer. I wake up, Summer. Not something I am overly fond of - if you didn't catch onto that by now. The best way to describe it is that it is a Season NOT a way of life. A very long drug out Season that is less then fun to participate in. I could live in Autumn all year round. November actually. Somedays it is still just to warm in October for me but the following month, find me there. Tossing leaves in the air, sipping hot apple cider, wrapped in blankets with the candles lit while anticipating Winters arrival. 

     This morning I awoke to the smell of S'mores. You know, like the campfire ones. Maybe I was just coming out of a dream? I always connect warmer weather with BBQs and of course the sticky marshmallow mess that follows the more then filling - right off the grill cheeseburger. Or maybe I was just longing for something I had lost a long time ago? Maybe I am searching just trying to get it back again? I don't know but whatever the reason I woke up content almost happy even. Today.

I hate camping! I can't stand it! Ask my husband or any one of my kids and they will tell you just how much I loath that "fun" outdoor activity.

     It always wasn't like that. My first "camping trip" was when I was about 12 years old. I had complained that I never got to go camping. It wasn't something we had even did around my place. I guess my Grandpa and Grandma got tired of hearing me whine about it so they came up with a solution to get me off the kick of being the only kid in the World who had never been. My Grandpa went out and purchased a 3 man tent. He also bought sleeping bags along with a little lantern. But! Even though we weren't going "camping" - we were going camping. Right out in our own back yard. Our yard was huge, fenced in and dark. The stars were so close at night you would swear you were under a Big Montana Sky. 
     We got everything set up and climbed inside - put the flap down and drifted off to sleep with the sound of the crickets tune. I will admit that I tossed and turned some because the lumpy ground was nothing like my comfy bed but I slept well for the most part. I awoke to the smell of bacon and coffee. I had never been roughing it before so I thought that was pretty cool UNTIL it came the time to stick my head out of the tent and look for my Grandparents who I thought might have just "ran" inside to use the bathroom. Right? Wrong! They were inside alright. Inside at the dining room table enjoying their bacon, egg, toast and hot coffee breakfast. All while I was outside a little on the cold side from the morning dew that decided to use my body as a resting spot as well as fending off the bugs that felt they needed to sip my blood that taste like sugar in their mouths. I fought my way up, went inside. My Grandfather asked me how I liked camping. I responded with "Been there. Done that. You can burn the tent now."

     I didn't camp again until years and years later when my husband, who seems to love the dirt life - drug me out for another trial run. This time though it wasn't in my own backyard - it was in Montana. I had remembered that I only camped one time before and I felt like it wasn't all that terrible. I was Home and with my Grandparents so yea, what was not so much fun back then gave way to a good memory to share as years passed by. My husband kept telling me that I was going to love camping. It was the greatest thing in the World. Nothing like sleeping out under the stars and listening the frogs croak a beautiful song. Stupid. Stupid me. I believed that line of BS. We arrived at his sister's house. My husband insisted we camp outside because he wanted me to understand how wonderful it truly was to be one with nature. The evening drug on, alas it was time to turn in. We headed outside to the far end of the yard that was fenced in with a hap hazard wire fence. I figured that the faster I went to sleep the faster daylight would come and the nightmare would be over. Yup. That was short lived when his sister came out to give us a couple more blankets and to let us know if the bears tried to get into where we were sleeping, they couldn't. I was done. I slept inside and downstairs.

     At this point I knew with a doubt that I really did not ever want to camp again. It is kind of funny though because I love everything about it. Just not the "it" part of it. More of just the vision of what it might be: Kicked back around a campfire, the smell of smoke lingering on your clothes. Dinner over the hot embers, the bottomless cups of fresh coffee. Fireflies and crickets to lull your tired eyes to sleep. Waking up next to a running creek. The birds gentle song. More fresh coffee.
     Ya, I wont lie. I do like the thought of that but do you know what I like just a whole lot more? Hot Showers. Fluffy Pillows. My Curling Iron. That is just my favorite way of life. Even my husband comments - when someone mentions camping - " my wife will only go if it is in a 5 star." He is correct. I have taught him well. He doesn't even offer to take me anymore because he knows what my answer will be. What it will always be. "Nope! Not going!"

     I might feel the Country but I sure as h*ll have a City heart. No one is ever going to change that. It has been the same way for so-so long now. I am content for it to continue.

                                               Kazz 💋