Emily, my oldest, is away at camp.

Camp must be an East Coast/West Coast thing. Out in the Midwest, boys went to scout camp for a week, and everybody went to church camp for a week. But a month at sleepaway camp? Never heard of it.

She’s going to the camp that J went to when he was a boy. It seems idyllic.

No electronics, period. No phone, no computer, no ipod. No parent visits. If a girl wants to communicate with the outside world, she has to write a letter. On paper. With a pencil or pen. I love it. I’ve been writing her every day, which I am sure is an embarrassment to her.

She’s learning to ride a horse. I hope she learns to ride properly, instead of that goofy bouncing on an Eastern saddle. She’s also sailing, something I desperately wanted to do when I was her age.


One thought on “Camp

  1. Pingback: Camp | Bedwetting Mom

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