in the deep distant past, i had about sixteen webelos at a summer webelos encampment. we were with the rest of the camp at the campfire right at the lake (code for: as far as possible away from our campsite) when an unexpected severe storm and tornado warming was announce: 'take your scouts back to camp; the storm could be here in about thirty min(CRAAAAAAAAACK! BOOOOOOOOOOM!)utes.'
we herded the scouts along the tree line around a couple of open fields, the adults trying to get the scouts to sing 'happy' songs as they cried.
at the camp, we have these elevated shelters for storage, with one long side completely open. herded the scouts inside and hung four coleman lanterns from nails at the front, open side so that the boys faced blinding light and couldn't see what was going on outside.
then it was a constant stream of talking and jokes and skits in the crowded shelter, trying to keep their eyes focused forward at the blinding light so they couldn't see that the wall of the shelter that they were sitting and standing against was crawling with wolf spiders the size of pontiac aztecs.
two and one-half hours later, it stopped as abruptly as it started.
outside, the mud was a couple of inches deep. one scout (the one i would have predicted) suddenly took a spread eagle leap from the shelter and landed face down, arms and legs akimbo, in the mud, and began making a mud eagle.
ah . . . those days with webelos.
i hope your outdoor meeting is as exciting so you have a good story to add to your collection.
I LOVE being outdoors.
I HATE the outdoors coming indoors on people’s shoes.
We have a HUGE tent — a three-armed monstrosity absolutely required for the burgeoning horde we call “our family” — that has a “vestibule” separated from the inner sanctum where we sleep by a zippered wall. We use that as a changing room and the place where you sit with your legs poking out the door while you take off your shoes before coming the rest of the way inside in your stocking feet.
I’d love a house out in a more rural area, but a mud room with a concrete floor and a floor drain would be an absolute MUST.
NOT to say that I hate getting dirty, just that when I’m DONE being dirty, I prefer to leave most — if not all — of the dirt outside, where it belongs.
MUD does not comply. Not at all.
“the wall of the shelter that they were sitting and standing against was crawling with wolf spiders the size of pontiac aztecs.”
Interesting story there : )
We found a northern watersnake by the church’s ornamental pond last year when I took the Tiger Cubs for some outdoorsiness. No such excitement last night, but they were happy to be out.