Wintertime, I hear
Monday, December 18th, 2006I thought I had met wintertime. Once. At a camp reunion we had between Christmas and New Years. It snowed in the mountains, and those of us reuinioning spent most of our time chopping wood, huddled under sleeping bags and blankets on thin mattresses in the staff room, or drawing straws to see whose turn it was to go fix something really hot to eat or drink. How quickly we forget (well, it was some 25 years ago. Egad.).
I was assigned an Order of the Arrow ordeal with my eldest at the beginning of December at a Boy Scout camp in Texas. I was relieved it wasn’t going to be in August, as trail clearing and trash hauling tend to be the order of the day in the Order of the Arrow. And even though I had packed my positive attitude and (incognito, not knowing how welcome they would be) a few pocket warmers, I was amazed at the temperature in the teens we experienced both Friday and Saturday nights.
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