*This was the worst night for campers. If you've read my post, "Worst Night of Camp," that night was much worse than this night for me. Even if you haven't read that post, that night was still worse for me. I actually enjoyed the night about which I am going to write.
'Twas the first night of camp for the summer. I had just completed the Bible study for the evening and was about to bring my cabin to beach orientation when Kris, the water front director, informed me that the aqua challenge (where it is determined if kids are deep or shallow water swimmers) will not be held after beach orientation due to the impending rain. My kids and I went back to our cabin so they could change out of their swimming attire, and very shortly after I was informed that we would be heading to the party room. The party room is our storm shelter. We call it the party room because that sounds a lot more fun than storm shelter and the goal here is to not have the kids freak out.
Within the first two minutes of being in the party room, one of the campers (not mine, thank God) threw up. It was gross, as throw up usually is. Surprisingly, we somehow avoided the inevitable chain reaction of throw up that usually happens with children (and me). We still had to sit with the smell for about ten minutes, though.
In the party room, we usually sing the camp songs of the week until the storm passes and it's safe for us to go back to our cabins. This time, however, we ran out of camp songs, as the storm lasted for three hours. We then started to sing camp songs that weren't from that week. Mark and I were leading my all-time favorite camp song, Psalm 150, when the power went out. We flawlessly executed a distraction by singing louder, and since Psalm 150 is a call and response style of song, the kids sang louder, too, not even noticing that the power went out. Eventually, though, even after about 15 verses of "Peace," we were out of viable camp song options. Mark, Kris, and I then sang Adam Sandler's "Lunch Lady Land," and I feel like that went over pretty well. Mark and I then did an impression of Hootie and the Blowfish which, predictably, did not go over well because the kids have no idea who that is. As a last-ditch attempt to keep order in the party room, Mark and I performed a stirring rendition of the Flintstones theme song. I don't think the kids knew who the Flintstones were, either, so that didn't go as well as I had hoped, but it was a ton of fun for me.
Three hours after we arrived at the party room, the storm subsided and we were allowed to return to our cabins. It was still raining pretty hard, though. Once my kids and I got back to our cabin, I asked if any of them had to go to the bathroom. Of course, they all had to, so we all grabbed our flashlights (the power was still out) and began to leave. Just before I went out the door, I remembered I had a rain jacket. "Oh! I can wear my rain jacket, because I have one. Ha, ha, ha." After I had said this, about five of my seven campers remembered that their mothers made them bring a rain jacket, too. We all went down and went to the bathroom. When we got back, one of my campers took off his jacket with a huge smile on his face. "I'm so glad my mom makes me do stuff now!"
The power didn't come back on until about 10:45. All of my campers were still awake and they were very excited about the power returning. Since I had already yelled at them to be quiet about six times, though, they only uttered whispers of jubilation.
And we all slept happily ever after. The end.
Showing posts with label rain. Show all posts
Showing posts with label rain. Show all posts
Saturday, June 23, 2012
Sunday, May 6, 2012
From Brookings, With Love, Part 2: Electric Boogaloo
When I left Brookings, the clouds were erupting with thunder and lightning. I was excited because I love thunderstorms. Driving in thunderstorms is a bad idea for me - not because driving conditions are poor, but because I love watching thunderstorms, and if I'm watching the thunderstorm I'm not watching the road. Every time lightning illuminated the sky, I took my eyes off of the road to watch.
It didn't start to rain until I was about a half hour out of Brookings. It was incredibly dark, and my headlights were almost no help in brightening the road. I would've switched on my high beams, but, of course, there was a car just far enough ahead of me where they weren't guiding me at all, but close enough where I couldn't use my brights.
By the time I got to Marshall - which is the halfway point between Brookings and home - it was raining hard. Much to my chagrin, I needed to get gas. At the first stop light in town, I merged into the left turn lane. Since my dresser was in the back seat, I couldn't see anything out of my rear-view mirror. As I was taking a sip from my Arnold Palmer (the beverage, not the old golfer after whom the beverage is named), I got rear ended, which not only caused my car to hit the car in front of me, it also caused my Arnie Palmie to fly out of my hand and onto the floor. To give you a sense of my priorities, the order of my subjects of concern went:
1. My Arnold Palmer
2. My iPod
3. My radio (I'm not sure why)
4. All of my stuff I was moving
5. My car
6. My body
7. The other people and their cars
Turns out, everything was fine. My license plate was bent a little bit, but that was the only damage done to any of the three cars. My Arnold Palmer, however, was half spilled on the floor of my car. It's probably a good thing that happened, though (foreshadowing is fun!).
After Marshall, I had the road to myself. That makes a ton of sense, actually, because who would be driving at 10:00pm in a roughly-180-mile-long severe thunderstorm? It was still incredibly dark outside (it's weird that it didn't get brighter as the night got later, right?) so my headlights did nothing. Unfortunately, it was raining so hard that my brights were even worse. Well, they were worse for visibility reasons, but in the entertainment area, they were a lot better - it looked like I had put my car into hyper drive! Very cool, but very unhelpful, also. I decided to keep my brights off.
After Granite Falls, which is the town after Marshall, I had to pee. Like, I really had to pee. I decided that I'd stop at the next gas station. Unfortunately, the next town was an hour away. By the time I made it to Spicer, the next town, I was strongly considering just peeing my pants. To my horror, nothing in Spicer was open. I wasn't really surprised. I mean, there are like six places in Spicer, and it was after 11:00pm. Normally, in a situation like this one, I'd just pull over and pee in a ditch or something. However, the torrential downpour was still in full effect, and was a great deterrent for that plan. After about ten more minutes of driving, my eyes started to tear up, except I was certain that the tears were made out of urine. I was excited for a little bit because I thought if I cried enough, that would empty my bladder. That didn't work. I accepted the fact that I was going to die. Police would come examine my totaled car, and the autopsy would reveal that my bladder had exploded, and if that wasn't enough to kill me, the fact that my lungs filled with urine certainly was. Eventually, I decided getting a little wet was better than getting a little dead, so I pulled over on the side of the road. Any time you pull over to the side of the road to pee, you hope it's gonna go by really quick. Unfortunately, if you get to the point where you have to pull over just to go to the bathroom, it's not gonna be a twenty second pee-session. The fact that I was braving a monsoon made me want this little pit stop to go as quickly as possible. It just so happened that I had pulled over behind a hill. After having the road to myself for over an hour and a half, not one, not two, not three, but four cars drove over the hill. I have a little bit of dignity, so I wasn't about to relieve myself in front of an audience. Unfortunately, more cars kept coming, spacing themselves so perfectly that as soon as I thought I was in the clear, another pair of headlights would appear. Eventually, I didn't care anymore, so I just let 'er go. I'm not crude enough to tell you how long it took, but I will tell you that three more cars drove by me before I was done. Taking solace in the fact that I would never see these people and the fact that I could actually function now that my bladder was empty, I hopped in my car and drove the last half hour to my home in Cold Spring.
I got home at midnight, and the first thing I did was turn on House Hunters on Home & Gardening TV. Yup. After not having cable for the whole school year, the first thing I turn on when I get home is House Hunters. Don't judge me.
It didn't start to rain until I was about a half hour out of Brookings. It was incredibly dark, and my headlights were almost no help in brightening the road. I would've switched on my high beams, but, of course, there was a car just far enough ahead of me where they weren't guiding me at all, but close enough where I couldn't use my brights.
By the time I got to Marshall - which is the halfway point between Brookings and home - it was raining hard. Much to my chagrin, I needed to get gas. At the first stop light in town, I merged into the left turn lane. Since my dresser was in the back seat, I couldn't see anything out of my rear-view mirror. As I was taking a sip from my Arnold Palmer (the beverage, not the old golfer after whom the beverage is named), I got rear ended, which not only caused my car to hit the car in front of me, it also caused my Arnie Palmie to fly out of my hand and onto the floor. To give you a sense of my priorities, the order of my subjects of concern went:
1. My Arnold Palmer
2. My iPod
3. My radio (I'm not sure why)
4. All of my stuff I was moving
5. My car
6. My body
7. The other people and their cars
Turns out, everything was fine. My license plate was bent a little bit, but that was the only damage done to any of the three cars. My Arnold Palmer, however, was half spilled on the floor of my car. It's probably a good thing that happened, though (foreshadowing is fun!).
After Marshall, I had the road to myself. That makes a ton of sense, actually, because who would be driving at 10:00pm in a roughly-180-mile-long severe thunderstorm? It was still incredibly dark outside (it's weird that it didn't get brighter as the night got later, right?) so my headlights did nothing. Unfortunately, it was raining so hard that my brights were even worse. Well, they were worse for visibility reasons, but in the entertainment area, they were a lot better - it looked like I had put my car into hyper drive! Very cool, but very unhelpful, also. I decided to keep my brights off.
After Granite Falls, which is the town after Marshall, I had to pee. Like, I really had to pee. I decided that I'd stop at the next gas station. Unfortunately, the next town was an hour away. By the time I made it to Spicer, the next town, I was strongly considering just peeing my pants. To my horror, nothing in Spicer was open. I wasn't really surprised. I mean, there are like six places in Spicer, and it was after 11:00pm. Normally, in a situation like this one, I'd just pull over and pee in a ditch or something. However, the torrential downpour was still in full effect, and was a great deterrent for that plan. After about ten more minutes of driving, my eyes started to tear up, except I was certain that the tears were made out of urine. I was excited for a little bit because I thought if I cried enough, that would empty my bladder. That didn't work. I accepted the fact that I was going to die. Police would come examine my totaled car, and the autopsy would reveal that my bladder had exploded, and if that wasn't enough to kill me, the fact that my lungs filled with urine certainly was. Eventually, I decided getting a little wet was better than getting a little dead, so I pulled over on the side of the road. Any time you pull over to the side of the road to pee, you hope it's gonna go by really quick. Unfortunately, if you get to the point where you have to pull over just to go to the bathroom, it's not gonna be a twenty second pee-session. The fact that I was braving a monsoon made me want this little pit stop to go as quickly as possible. It just so happened that I had pulled over behind a hill. After having the road to myself for over an hour and a half, not one, not two, not three, but four cars drove over the hill. I have a little bit of dignity, so I wasn't about to relieve myself in front of an audience. Unfortunately, more cars kept coming, spacing themselves so perfectly that as soon as I thought I was in the clear, another pair of headlights would appear. Eventually, I didn't care anymore, so I just let 'er go. I'm not crude enough to tell you how long it took, but I will tell you that three more cars drove by me before I was done. Taking solace in the fact that I would never see these people and the fact that I could actually function now that my bladder was empty, I hopped in my car and drove the last half hour to my home in Cold Spring.
I got home at midnight, and the first thing I did was turn on House Hunters on Home & Gardening TV. Yup. After not having cable for the whole school year, the first thing I turn on when I get home is House Hunters. Don't judge me.
Friday, April 27, 2012
Internet Weather
First of all, I just want to say that by "Internet Weather," I mean checking the weather via the internet. I don't mean the weather conditions of the internet - that'd be ridiculous. Mostly because there is no such thing. If there was such a thing as internet weather, though, nobody would have to check it because the forecast would probably be the same everyday - mostly sketchy with a high chance of identity theft.
When I wake up on the mornings of days in which I have class, I go through the same routine, which starts out with waking up and opening my laptop. I open up three tabs: Facebook, Twitter, and a Google tab. Facebook is my home page, that's why I open that one. Then I figure, "Well, I already have Facebook open...might as well check out what's happening on Twitter," (I felt like I had to justify opening those two tabs right away). In the Google tab I search "weather brookings sd," so I can dress accordingly. There is a slight problem with this strategy, though, and that is that the internet weather is almost always wrong. It's right just often enough where I go by what it says, just in case. Most mornings it'll say it's about 45° with a high of around 57° or something. "Huh, that's pretty chilly. I should wear a sweatshirt. Even when it gets to 57°, I won't be too hot." I pick out my daily attire, shower, brush my teeth, get dressed, and head out the door. As soon as I step outside I think, "Wow, 45° is a lot warmer than I remember." After walking two blocks, I quickly realize that it is not 45° like the internet said - it's probably a lot closer to 65°.
There are some days, though, when I don't believe the internet weather at all. There are some days in which the internet says it is 38° and rainy. "Rainy, huh? How rainy is it?" I think. Then I open my curtains to see that it's actually quite sunny with very few clouds. "Well, you're 0 for 1 so far, internet," I sometimes-audibly state. Then I decide it's probably 60° and not 38°. These days fluster me a little bit because, then, I have to decide for myself what I will wear. It's a real gamble.
Just last week, I came up with a fantastic new strategy for weather checking. Now, after I wake up, I step outside. You know, where the weather is. Amazingly, this strategy works a lot more effectively. Go figure, eh?
When I wake up on the mornings of days in which I have class, I go through the same routine, which starts out with waking up and opening my laptop. I open up three tabs: Facebook, Twitter, and a Google tab. Facebook is my home page, that's why I open that one. Then I figure, "Well, I already have Facebook open...might as well check out what's happening on Twitter," (I felt like I had to justify opening those two tabs right away). In the Google tab I search "weather brookings sd," so I can dress accordingly. There is a slight problem with this strategy, though, and that is that the internet weather is almost always wrong. It's right just often enough where I go by what it says, just in case. Most mornings it'll say it's about 45° with a high of around 57° or something. "Huh, that's pretty chilly. I should wear a sweatshirt. Even when it gets to 57°, I won't be too hot." I pick out my daily attire, shower, brush my teeth, get dressed, and head out the door. As soon as I step outside I think, "Wow, 45° is a lot warmer than I remember." After walking two blocks, I quickly realize that it is not 45° like the internet said - it's probably a lot closer to 65°.
There are some days, though, when I don't believe the internet weather at all. There are some days in which the internet says it is 38° and rainy. "Rainy, huh? How rainy is it?" I think. Then I open my curtains to see that it's actually quite sunny with very few clouds. "Well, you're 0 for 1 so far, internet," I sometimes-audibly state. Then I decide it's probably 60° and not 38°. These days fluster me a little bit because, then, I have to decide for myself what I will wear. It's a real gamble.
Just last week, I came up with a fantastic new strategy for weather checking. Now, after I wake up, I step outside. You know, where the weather is. Amazingly, this strategy works a lot more effectively. Go figure, eh?
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