A pinewood girl is hard to beat!

I'll spare you the long story about how much camp means to me, because I think I've said it over, and over, and over again.  So you know.  I have a short list of the things that are the greatest influence on my formative years.  One of them is my Grandpa Wylie, and one of them is camp.

So you can imagine my delight at taking Wylie to his FIRST weekend at Camp.  I talked it up so much over the summer that I wasn't sure if he was going to actually like it, once the reality was stacked against the hype.  But he did.  He loved every minute of it.  Loved the meals, and the songs, and the campfires.  Loved the wild cats in the woods.  LOVED chasing the other kids around.  Loved the stars, and wide open spaces.  Even better, camp has had a problem with wild cats.  I told Wylie if one jumped into his arms, we could take it home.  See below as Wylie tries to coax a cat to make a leap.

Sharing camp with my mom has always been a special thing.  Going with Wylie and my mom was just as awesome as I thought it would be.  It was a little too dirty and sweaty to be lugging my camera around- so here are the few snapshots we have.  The rest are burned into my memories.

PS- A special shout out to my mom, who at 60+ years old left the comforts of home for a hot, dusty weekend without her normal routine, coffee, or technology!