<p>…yes, that is what <span title="Roger Rabbit – my SO" class="serendipity_glossaryMarkup">RR</span> said to me Friday night and yes, he actually said it in hopes that it would calm me down. It didn’t work.</p><p>Let’s back up. This past weekend we went camping in Vermont (right down the road from <a href="http://jessaluknits.com/exit.php?url_id=1549&amp;entry_id=224" title="http://whathousework.typepad.com/what_housework/2006/06/blog_buddy_week.html" onmouseover="window.status=’http://whathousework.typepad.com/what_housework/2006/06/blog_buddy_week.html’;return true;" onmouseout="window.status=”;return true;" target="_blank">Jessie</a> – whom I met, but more on that later) and apparently, someone upstairs didn’t like that idea so much. Because on the first night, it poured. And I mean torrential downpour. We went to try out our new three-room super-tent (hey, when you camp with teens you want as much space between you and the giggling as humanly possible which means big-ass-tent) and overall it was a good test-run. Except, next time I buy a new tent, I’m spraying it with waterproofing and sealing all the seams BEFORE I sleep in it. I will also go to *ahem* Walmart *ahem* and buy new camping toys prior to the trip. We showed up at the site with a tent still in a box and assorted camping paraphenalia – all still in boxes. Yes, people, I was the person I bitch about all the time. The annoying ‘upfer’ with all the cool gadgets (and yes, I caved and bought the ‘ceiling fan with light’. HEY it’s *really* cool – literally.). I also would like to state that I am not a rookie camper – I camped for almost 7 years on a regular basis with my ex-jackass. I just forgot some stuff. *ahem*</p><p>So Friday we get the site set up, and since it is so late we go buy already cooked burgers and fries at the camp store (oh shush), bring them back to the site and commence the eating. Halfway through dinner we hear droplets hitting the spanking-new canopy overhead – and about a minute later the fricken skies opened. Then 30 seconds after that, the dripping began. And this wasn’t even the tent – it was the easy-up CANOPY thingy. </p><p>This was when the panicking began. I ran into the tent with the lantern (this is while the lantern was still working – but that’s Saturday night’s excitement, I don’t want to get ahead of myself) and checked – no leaks…whew. So I went out and finished eating. We sat and watched the fire <strike>get drowned</strike> go out for about 10 minutes and then decided it might be best to go inside. Good freaking thing we did – the seam over the bed (yeah air mattress, what of it?) was dripping. OVER MY BED.</p><p>At this point I may or may not have lost my cool.</p><p>We dragged the bed away from the leaky seam and I went online (yes, the campground had WiFi and no, I didn’t use it very much no matter what RR says) to check the weather. There was a very large, very scary green blob in the general vicinity of where we were. And it wasn’t moving very quickly.</p><p>This was when RR decided to be ‘helpful’ and point out that we were sleeping on a raft. Perfect.</p><p>So Friday I barely slept for fear that we were going to be crushed by the torrential downpour and swept away to our deaths. Guess who snored through the whole thing? Hrmph. Light sleeper, my ass.</p><p>During the whole scary rain episode I was emailing Jessie back and forth regarding our dinner ‘date’ the next night – there was no cell service at the camp so it was a good thing we had email! (She offered to let us sleep in her guest room but RR and I are <strike>stupid</strike> stubborn and decided to brave it out.)</p><p>Here’s a little back-story. Jessie is from the town I now live in and knows most of the people I went to school with. I did not know her until I saw a comment she left on someone’s blog that mentioned either the Berkshires or Egremont, I’m not sure which. I asked her how the hell she knew this area and she replied that she lived here – holy surprise! After a few months of emails/blog reading/commenting we found out that we have alot of the same interests, the same sense of humor and our SO’s may have been separated at birth (however, they’re not admitting to anything) ;o)</p><p>Not only did I have a great time at dinner (orifice *giggle*) but she let me use her wheel…oh hell, go read <a target="_blank" href="http://jessaluknits.com/exit.php?url_id=1549&amp;entry_id=224" title="http://whathousework.typepad.com/what_housework/2006/06/blog_buddy_week.html" onmouseover="window.status=’http://whathousework.typepad.com/what_housework/2006/06/blog_buddy_week.html’;return true;" onmouseout="window.status=”;return true;">her post</a>. She even has pictures! I only have one. I’ve entitled it &quot;City Boy meets Duck&quot;. Yes, he was quacking.</p><p><a onclick="F1 = window.open(‘/uploads/Photos/06-26-06017.jpg’,’Zoom’,’height=495,width=655,top=144,left=192,toolbar=no,menubar=no,location=no,resize=1,resizable=1,scrollbars=yes’); return false;" href="http://jessaluknits.com/uploads/Photos/06-26-06017.jpg" class="serendipity_image_link"><img width="175" height="131" src="http://jessaluknits.com/uploads/Photos/06-26-06017.serendipityThumb.jpg" style="border: 0px none ; padding-left: 5px; padding-right: 5px;" alt="" /></a></p><p>I grew up on a farm. I raised ducks. They don’t respond when humans quack at them – they’re smarter than that. However, it’s funny as hell to watch someone do it ;o)</p><p><i>Coming soon…what we did on Sunday, where we went on Monday, what came home with me and…what was waiting for me when I got home.</i></p><p><i>P.S.  My Bloglines was at 610 unread posts when I got home today…help…</i><i></i></p><p /><p>

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