29 May 2012


There is nothing like one's own bed for comfort, even usually, but particularly when you have as perfect a bed as I have. I always head off for camping thinking how wonderful it will be to be away from everything and just lounge about and sleep, but then I get to camping and I remember that sleeping on the ground is really not that comfortable. No matter how many hours you spend doing it, you are never really rested.

Maybe it is easier for people who sleep on some other body part than their side, but I always wake up with a sore hip and neck, even with my embarrassingly thick sleeping pad that is too thick to be called a sleeping pad and so is called a camp bed.

I like camping, don't get me wrong, but it feels really very nice to come home and step into a warm shower and wash off the smell of campfire. 

Not so nice is the cleanup of all the food that has been sitting in boxes and bags all weekend. I did find the source of that stench, but it took a while. (It was pineapple juice dripped into the bottom of the no-longer-cool cooler bag.)

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