Visiting Camp

In my week on the Cape, I went into camp. I walked around and saw the new pool and new archery range. On the one hand, the range is too close to society and will no longer be a recluse for my successor and their staff and kids. On the other, I'm incredibly jealous that whoever comes after me will get to shape this range in his (or her) image and set things up in a way that will leave a physical mark on the camp in ways that I never had the opportunity.

In the hour-and-a-half (ish) that I was there, I must have been offered a job 10 times. And with every offer, it got harder to say that I can't. (Partially because I am scared of "real life" employment and the prospect of real-life UNemployment, and partially because I miss it terribly and cannot imagine what it will be like without having camp in my life.)

Yes, home is where the teddy bear is, but home is also where you're name is written 10 times in various color markers and bright orange spray-paint in an archery shed.

I can't wait to go home for another visit...