Friday, September 05, 2008
Where's the Bucket of Water?!
Three bloggers – Guy, Oreneta and Eileen – have recently posted about the enjoyment to be had sitting by a bonfire.
Okay, so I get it that sitting around a campfire is a great opportunity to experience camaraderie, the great outdoors, etc., etc. but I’m just not capable of truly enjoying it. And it’s not as if I haven’t experienced enough of them. I have.
Here’s why you will rarely see Beth at a bonfire - or if she does deign to plunk herself down by the fire-pit, it’s for a limited time only:
1. I worry about the sparks causing a fire and burning down the forest. (And there’s no point in trying to convince me they won’t.)
2. Sitting on a tree stump or a rock makes my butt numb.
3. Wherever I sit (and I move frequently) the smoke changes direction and follows me – right in my face…
4. For which I should be grateful since the smoke supposedly keeps the damn bugs away…
5. But it doesn’t. They still swarm around me – smoke or no. And if I put the hood of my sweatshirt up for protection, they fly inside to torture me.
6. I either get too hot or too cold. Face burning, back freezing.
7. I no longer enjoy roasted marshmallows – the memory of all the ones I ate roasted (burnt) by my kids – “For you, Mom!” – makes me ill.
Yeah, yeah, I’m a whiner and a wimp. Perhaps I’ve just never encountered the perfect bonfire?
But I am a good sport. At least I still give it a go. In fact, I made an appearance at the bonfire last weekend.
I’m just not going to say how long I lasted.