Getting ready for camp. . . .

My parents sent me to sleep-away camp for the first time at age 9.  Mar-Lu-Ridge, in western Maryland.  It was run by the Lutheran church, and our home church in Washington, DC, St. Peter's, subsidized a portion of the $90 per week cost.  I went with my best friend, Ann, who was also Lutheran, but Missouri Synod.  The doctrinal heresy of attending a then LCA camp was kept from her Midwestern grandparents.  We lived in little cabins called arks, called our counselors "Miss" or "Mister" whatever their first names were, even though they likely only high school or college students.  At the lower camp, we walled up hill to the dining hall, swimming pool and the barn.  The upper camp was for middle school and high school aged campers and it was on the top of the mountain.  I was there for a year of regular camp, another year of canoe camp and a final year of bicycle camp, and once upon a time I had patches for 1969 through 1975 - the final year I went, my bicycle and I flew from Chicago back home to Washington, DC.   Mar-Lu-Ridge is definitely one of my better memories, and I loved going there year after year.

There are times I can't believe my mother left her nine-year old in the care of strangers, but I never remember being homesick.  I was always the first camper to get mail, since she posted a letter to me even before I left for camp and I pretty much got letters and cards for the entire week.

On Sunday I'm giving over care of Micah to the Boy Scouts for one week.  His troop is going to Camp Ockanickon in Pipersville, PA.  We've been there once before when he was a Cub Scout for family camping, so I'm familiar with the camp, we did the Family Camp weekend on my birthday a few years ago. Thea and Steve got colds or severe allergies and they wanted to leave Saturday night, and after one night in a three-sided shelter, if they were leaving, so was I.  I remember Micah wanting to stay for the last night.  

The first time campers from his Nuclear Penguin patrol will be doing the Dan Beard program, so for this camp there was no designing a schedule or pre-requistes to be completed in advance.

Back when the idea of shipping Micah away for a week was just theoretical, both Thea and I were thrilled with the idea of having a nice, quiet house .  But now as I am starting to get him ready for this adventure, I'm not so sure.

Micah is the one who still comes to give a hug and kiss goodnight, and yes, I am not completely stupid, sometimes it's sincere, and sometimes it's just a stall tactic because he doesn't want to go to bed.  Adolescence hasn't hit yet, and taken away his desire to snuggle.

He will still come and sit on my lap and hang out for a chat, though now that he's hit 80 pounds, I'm usually the one telling him that my lap has had enough.  I will miss that.

And as much as sometimes the chatter sends me around the bend after a day where people have talked my ears off, the quiet house will probably not be as wonderful as I imagined it would be.  Though the thought of Micah being without electronics and doing outdoorsy stuff for seven days makes me happy.