If this is your first time visiting my blog you may want to read Fond Memories first.  The first four chapters of my first attempt at a children's chapter book are shared there.  I will continue to share installments of my book.  I see it as a book for 9-12 year olds.  Enjoy!

The Katie Chronicles Installment 2

Chapter 5 - Opening Ceremonies

     The pavilion was a large open-air structure made of rough-hewn logs. True to its name, two humongous pine trees flanked the entrance. Inside, campers sat waiting on rows of log benches as the camp song played through the crackly speaker system. A crowd this size would normally be filled with chattering voices, but this group of strangers, thrown together for the summer, was eerily quiet. Katie hesitated, not knowing where to sit. Suddenly, she spied Lou holding a Cabin D sign with one hand and waving enthusiastically at Katie with the other.
     Katie snaked her way through the rows of benches, oddly happy to see Lou’s grinning face. Lou was pointing to an empty seat in the Cabin D section. Katie stopped short, having recognized another face. It was none other than “Duffel Bag Girl.”
     Frantically, Katie looked about for another seat in the Cabin D section, but as she did, Ms. Vanden Bosch, the camp director, came to the podium and asked everyone to take their seats. Finding no other option, Katie plunked herself down beside DBG.
     “Welcome to Camp Wickamonga, a fun time getaway for girls. I’m Ms. Vanden Bosch, your camp director. Take a look to your left and then your right. The girls you see on either side of you may be strangers today, but by the end of summer, they will be your life-long friends.”
     “Yeah, right,” DBG muttered under her breath as she eye-balled Katie.
     “Now, let’s get to know one another. I’d like to begin by introducing our staff. To my left is Nurse Kim. You will find her in the Infirmary located to the left of the dining hall. Should you find yourself feeling ill, she’s the person to see.”
     As Ms. Vanden Bosch spoke, Nurse Kim rose from her seat and waddled to the front of the stage where she grinned and waved to the crowd. Somehow, with her short round body and bob haircut, she looked more like a German polka dancer than a nurse.
     “Next to Nurse Kim is Mr. Mike, our recreation director. He will assist you in selecting your recreational activities while you are here.”
     Mr. Mike also rose (if you could call it that). He stood about 4 ft 10 inches tall, but obviously thought muscles made up for his lack of height. His head rested on a thick, stubby neck that connected to wide shoulders. His upper arms bulged in a WWF sort of way. He sauntered up to the edge of the stage, and with one hand on his whistle, he winked and saluted the audience.
     “Now let’s meet our CIC’s,” said Ms. Vanden Bosch. “These ladies have been hand-picked and possess the qualities, skills, and enthusiasm to make your time here at Camp Wickamonga a once in a lifetime experience. As I introduce each cabin’s counselor, I’d like the campers in that cabin to stand, also.”
     Ms. V began with Cabin A. As Carrie, their counselor, was introduced, the campers in her cabin stood, shook their fists and yelled, “WOOH, WOOH, WOOH, WOOH!”
     Each successive introduction brought a similar, but increasingly louder response. When Cabin D was announced, Lou surprised everyone by jumping up and doing a series of running handsprings down the aisle that ended with a Chinese splits. Cabin D girls exploded into deafening screams, having just earned their place as the “It Cabin” of Camp Wickamonga. Strangers no more, they jumped up and down, grabbed the girl next to them and hugged as if their favorite team had just won the national championship. Katie, an amateur gymnast herself, was ecstatic. Lou’s sense of humor might be questionable, but beyond that, she was awesome.
     It took Ms. Vanden Bosch’s repeated requests for quiet before the girls began to settle down. As their wild frenzy began to subside, Katie released the girl she had been hugging. One minute she was embracing her new best friend, or so she thought, and the next she was face to face with . . . “Duffel Bag Girl.”
     Both girls released their grip, making faces as if they had been holding a dirty diaper, took a step back, and sat down. The rest of the introductions were made, the camp song was performed by the counselors and staff, and the girls were sent to their cabins to freshen up and get acquainted before mess call at 6:00.
     Cabin D girls were pumped as they hiked through the woods back to their cabin. Lou led the way, using the railroad ties that lined the path as a makeshift balance beam.  Soon the entire gaggle of girls was lined up, arms outstretched, mimicking Lou’s every move. They pranced and wobbled their way back to the cabin.

Chapter 6 - Bunkmates

     Once inside the cabin, Lou gathered the girls in the front room for a “family meeting” where she spelled out the camp rules. Katie thought to herself, It really is true, that saying, “Everything I ever needed to know, I learned in kindergarten.” The rules were basic: treat others as you want to be treated, speak with good purpose, follow directions, and always have a buddy.
     Katie looked around at the gathering of girls. She wondered who the mischief-maker in the group would be. Her life experiences had taught her that every group had one. In her Girl Scout troop, it had been Roxie. Once, at a troop picnic, she had poured ketchup on her head and run screaming toward their leader as if seriously wounded. On her soccer team, it was definitely DeeDee. She had a habit of tying people’s shoelaces together when they weren’t looking. Even her Sunday school class, where everyone was usually on their best behavior, had Samantha. She always peeked during the prayer.
     As Katie continued to scan the group, she determined it would not be Ava, the timid girl sitting directly across from her in the circle. Ava had listened intently to every word Lou had spoken, making her a definite rule follower. Erin, the freckle faced red-head, was a possibility. Perhaps not a mischief-maker, but undeniably outgoing and fun. She and Katie had been on the path together on the walk back to the cabin. Erin had giggled most of the way. Three girls had lost their balance and jumped fearfully when Erin pointed to a stick on the ground and yelled, “SNAKE!” Katie knew immediately that she and Erin would be friends. Next to Erin sat DBG, or Caroline. Katie pegged her as simply a grump. Mischief-makers, though troublesome, were usually pleasant, despite their pranks. Katie couldn’t picture herself using the word pleasant and Caroline in the same sentence. Katie’s reverie was interrupted as Loucalled the meeting to a close. The girls chattered happily, as they headed down the hall to their bunks.
     Katie was just swinging her leg over the top rail when she froze. Please, don’t let it be so,” she thought as she saw none other than DBG approaching the lower bunk.
     “Oh great,” muttered DBG as the reality of the situation struck her, too. “Does anyone want to change bunks?” she asked scanning the room for a volunteer, but the room offered no takers. “Fine then,” spat Caroline as she glared at Katie. “You don’t have a problem with bed wetting, do you?”
     “I’d prefer you didn’t,” retorted Katie as she swung the other leg over and settled onto her bunk. She reached for the box of stationery she’d placed atop one of the ceiling beams. She really needed to talk to Mazie, but would have to settle for a letter instead. Pen in hand, she began to write:

Dear Mazie,
     How are things at home? How’s your mom?
Camp Wickamonga is pretty weak so far. I wasn’t too sure about my cabin counselor at first, but she turned out to be pretty cool. Her name is Lou.  The worst part is I’m sharing a bunk bed with “Duffel Bag Girl.” What, you may ask is a duffel bag girl? It’s a long story. Just trust me when I say, you don’t want to know her. She’s rude, grumpy, and down right intolerable. Fortunately, it’s just for the summer. I guess I can take anything for eight weeks.
     Tell your mom “hi” and write back soon. Gotta go,
                                                                      Your pal,
                                                                      Katie

     Katie folded the letter, addressed and stamped the envelope. As she was licking the flap, Erin approached her bunk.
     “Those envelope flaps can be mighty tasty, I hear,” teased Erin, “but me, I’m gonna take my chances in the dining hall. Wanna walk with?”
     “Sure,” said Katie.
     Sealing the letter and hopping down from her perch, Katie giggled with Erin as they turned to leave.
     “So what am I? Invisible?” snapped Caroline, as she sat slumped on the lower bunk.
     Katie and Erin glanced suspiciously at one another, shrugged their shoulders, and turned in unison.
     “Gee, sorry,” Katie said. “Wanna join us?”
     “Yeah, I guess so,” mumbled Caroline, “we’re all headed the same direction.”

Chapter 7 The Infirmary

      Katie, Erin, and Caroline, an unlikely trio, headed out the door and through the woods to the dining hall. It wasn’t long before Caroline was lagging behind. Each time Katie and Erin turned to look, they found her twisting and squirming, scratching an arm or a leg.
     “What’s with the mosquitoes in this place?” complained Caroline. “I’m being eaten alive.”
     “I haven’t felt a one,” said Erin.
     “Me either,” said Katie.
     “Give me a break,” Caroline shot back. “They can’t just be biting me.”
     Katie and Erin walked back to where Caroline was standing.  She was red . . . from head to toe.
     “Uh, Caroline,” Katie said. “I don’t think those are mosquito bites you’re scratching. It looks
like . . .”
     “POISON IVY!” exclaimed Erin. “Oh m’gosh, Caroline, you’re covered with it!”
     “I don’t remember you being introduced as the camp doctor!” Caroline snapped. “How could I have gotten poi . . . ?”
     Suddenly, Caroline turned to face Katie. “You…YOU…YOU,” she yelled and stomped off in the direction of the Infirmary.
     Feeling bad, but more hungry than bad, Katie and Erin continued on to the Dining Hall. Once inside they found Cabin D’s table where the rest of the girls were already seated.
     “Where’s Caroline?” asked an angelic Ava in a concerned voice.
     “Uh, I think she scratched dinner off her list of things to do tonight,” Erin offered.

* * * * *

     After dinner, the campers were herded once again to the pavilion for an evening devotion and sing-along time. Apparently, Kiefer, one of the lifeguards, also played the guitar and sang. His deep tan and sandy colored hair made him much more fun to look at than Ms. Vanden Bosch. His dreamy voice had the girls thinking they’d found the next American Idol. He had no trouble getting the girls to sing along as he taught them a string of silly camp songs.
     Chelsea, one of the more spirited Dining Hall waitresses, demonstrated hand motions to go along with each song. Katie and Erin thought “Little Rabbit Foo Foo” was a bit juvenile, but decided if Kiefer was singing it, then it must be “cool.” As they finished the last verse, Ms. Vanden Bosch rose to speak once more.
     “Ladies,” she began, “You have 45 minutes before lights out. Remember, our days begin bright and early here at Camp Wickamonga, so you will want to get a good night’s rest. We’ll see you in the Dining Hall at 6:30 in the morning.”

Chapter 8 - The Pink Monster

     Back at their cabin, the girls quickly changed into their PJ’s and grabbed a flashlight for a game of “German Spotlight” with the Cabin C girls. The girls chose Ava to be “It,” and handed her the flashlight. They designated the bridge as jail. Ava remained by the “jail,” counting to 20, as the rest of the girls ran and hid. The full moon, along with the cabin porch light, provided just enough luminosity for the girls to find hiding places behind trees, trash cans, benches and boulders. Ava’s job was to find the hidden girls, spotlight them, shout out their names, and send them to jail. She was quick to spot Alicia whose sun-bleached hair formed a beacon in the moonlight.
     Next, she spied Erin, carefully hidden behind a large boulder, but carelessly giggling in her happy go lucky way. Cleverly, the remaining girls would determine Ava’s directional trend and, at just the right moment, move to a new location. Ava though was determined to locate them all. The “inmates” yelled words of encouragement to those not yet captured as they looked on. Sniggers and muffled giggles, mingling with crickets and other sounds, drew Ava’s attention first one way and then the next.
     Suddenly, the night was pierced by Ava’s shrill scream. This was not a cry of playful enjoyment; instead, one of sheer terror.
     “Don’t move,” yelled Katie. “It’s a trick to get us to blow our cover.”
     But when the first scream was followed by an even louder second one, the girls began to show themselves one by one.
     “Ava,” they yelled. “we’re coming!”
     Erin picked up a big stick as she joined the rest of the girls. If it was good enough for Teddy Roosevelt, she thought. it’s good enough for me.
     Ten girls surrounded Ava, and their eyes followed her flashlight beam. Just a few feet in front of her was something somewhat human, and yet not. Standing as tall as Ava, teeth bared, puffy, round, and oh so pink. Unlike anything they’d ever seen.
     “Go ahead. Get a good look. It’s called Calamine Lotion. You wanna make somethin’ of it?” snarled Caroline as she lumbered toward the bridge.
     The cluster of girls parted like the Red Sea, staring wide-eyed as Caroline passed between them. Taps began to play over the speaker system, signaling it was time for lights out.

Fond Memories and The Katie Chronicles Part 1

Remember the days you've spent here.

Remember when you're away.

Remember the friends you've made here

And don't forget to, come back someday.

Remember the circling oak trees

The fun and frolic too,

For you girls belong to Cedarmore

And Cedarmore belongs to you.

                        
It's been 50 years since I attended Camp Cedarmore outside of Louisville, Kentucky.  As a nine year old, I went for a week, and the memories have never faded.  As a seventeen year old, I returned to spend the summer as a counselor.  Each week, a new group of little nine year olds would arrive to fill my cabin.  Those weeks were most definitely stepping stones on my journey to becoming a teacher. 

A few summers ago I decided to try my hand at writing a children's book.  I have always enjoyed writing in verse, but never really tried anything else.  My memories of Cedarmore were so vivid I decided to build my first attempt around them.  Since my blog has become a repository for my writings, I have decided to share installments of my book here.  For those of you who've been to camp, it may just bring back a memory or two.  I hope you enjoy The Katie Chronicles.

Chapter 1 - Broken Plans

“But why, Mom?” Katie whined. “Why do I have to spend the summer at a dumb ol’ camp? Mazie and I had plans. We were gonna start a club for the little kids. I was gonna be president and Mazie . . .”

“I’m sorry, Katie,” Mom interrupted. “I know how much you and Mazie enjoy being together, but I have to go to school this summer, and Dad’s new job is going to keep him out of town a lot. Camp Wickamonga is a great camp, and I know you’ll have fun if you give it half a chance.”

Half a chance, Katie thought as she stomped up the stairs to her room. No chance! There’s no way I’m going to like it. I can’t believe my parents are doing this to me. You spend the whole school year waiting for summer, making plans, and in a second, it’s all taken away. It just isn’t fair!

But fair or not, Katie’s fate was sealed. The next few days were spent in a frenzy of last minute shopping. The camp had sent a list detailing all the items each camper would need to bring. Mom and Katie spent an afternoon at Target purchasing flip-flops for the shower, insect repellant, blue jeans and t-shirts. In the evenings, Mom sewed little white nametags in the back of Katie’s underwear. (It was a camp rule.)

Like I’m going to lose my underwear, Katie thought. I’m ten years old, and as far back as I can remember, I’ve never once lost a single pair! “Stupid camp!”

* * * * *

The day before Katie left for camp, Mazie came to spend the afternoon. The two girls rode their bikes down to the grocery store and bought IBC Root Beer and bags of  Skittles, then headed for their hideout in the woods behind Katie’s house. It wasn’t actually a hideout, rather a large overgrown bush that grew behind Katie’s garage. The summer before, the girls had discovered a large hollow space beneath its overhanging limbs. They had furnished the space with two miniature Adirondack chairs and a plastic crate which they had turned upside down to use as a table. Once inside, they sipped their sodas and complained about the injustice of it all.

“If only my mom wasn’t pregnant,” said Mazie, “Then you could stay with us while your mom is in school, but Mom hasn’t been feeling well and the doctor says she has to get plenty of rest. Dad says I have to be ‘Mom’s little helper’ all summer. I almost wish I was going to camp with you.”

“Yeah, well anything would be better than camp, but promise you’ll write and tell me everything that happens.”

“I’ll write,” promised Mazie, “but I don’t think much will be happenin’ while you’re away.”

As the shadows lengthened, the girls headed for home. When they reached the corner, Mazie waved and headed off toward her house. “See ya in August,” she yelled over her shoulder.”

“Yeah, if I don’t get devoured by insects,” Katie replied.

Chapter 2 - Camp Arrival

Katie awakened to the smell of bacon and the sounds of the Today Show in the kitchen. Her mom couldn’t start the day without a dose of Matt Lauer and Meredith Viera. Katie entered the kitchen as Meredith and some expert were discussing six ways to be sure the summer camp you have chosen is safe for your child. Katie eyed her Mom and seized the moment.

“Did you hear that, Mom? They just said some camps aren’t safe. Each year thousands of campers injure themselves in accidents due to poorly trained staff and lack of supervision. Why, I could break an arm or a leg, be maimed for life. Have you given any thought to that?”

“Now, Katie,” Mom said as she handed Katie a glass of juice and turned to flip the pancakes on the griddle. “You don’t think your Dad and I would send you to just any camp, do you? We’ve researched it well and have talked to other parents whose children have gone there. Camp Wickamonga has one of the highest safety records in the country and has won awards for the quality experiences children receive there. I know you’re a little nervous about going, but I’m certain you are going to have a wonderful time.”

The back door slammed as Katie’s dad came in from the garage.

“Alrighty then,” he said. “The car is all packed and we’ll hit the road as soon as I’ve had some of Mom’s famous blueberry pancakes and a strip or two of that bacon. There’s nothin’ like home cookin’ to start you on your way!”

“If home cookin’ is so great, why are you sending me off to camp? We'll probably have beans for breakfast, beans for lunch, and beans for dinner, everyday.”

“Now, Katie,” her mom said as she glared at Katie’s dad. “We’ve already been over this. Let’s enjoy a pleasant breakfast and try to have a positive attitude.”

“Oh, I have a positive attitude,” Katie replied. “I POSITIVELY don’t want to go to camp.”

* * * * *

The next two hours went by much too fast for Katie. Slumped unhappily in the backseat of the car, she determined to slow things down, but unfortunately, her parents weren’t born yesterday.

“Mom,” she gasped. “I’m pretty sure you left the coffee-pot on. Why, it could short out and cause a fire. We’d better…”

“No problem, Katie,” Mom said. “It’s a new pot with an automatic shut off. What won’t they think of next!”

I’m not sure what THEY will think of next, but I’m pretty sure I need to think of something else . . . and quick! thought Katie. She had seen the sign for Camp Wickamonga a few miles back, which meant it couldn’t be much further.

“OOOOH-OOOOOH,” she moaned.

No one said a word.

“OOOOOOOH-OOOOOOOH,” she moaned louder.

Still no response.

“OOOOOOOOH-OOOOOOOOOOH,” she groaned in her loudest groan sound, as she crossed her arms across her middle and bent double. She peeked up to see if anyone was going to say anything.

“Doesn’t anyone care that I’m suffering?” she cried. “I think I’m going to be sick!”

“Probably just a bit of car-sickness,” Mom said as she turned and felt Katie’s head. “Lucky for you, we’re here.”

Katie sat up and looked out the window just as they passed under the sign that said:

WELCOME TO CAMP WICKAMONGA

A FUN PLACE FOR GIRLS

Now she really was going to throw up. Dad pulled the car into a parking space as Mom pointed to a sign that said: REGISTRATION

Chapter 3 - Duffel Bag Girl

Katie’s parents didn’t waste any time getting out of the car and heading up the path to a table where a crew of counselors were busy locating names on a list, writing down insurance information, and making cabin assignments. Reluctantly, Katie followed, scuffing her feet in the graveled walkway as she went. Little clouds of dust rose with each new step, turning her new hiking boots an odd shade of gray.

Fully engrossed in the activity of her feet, Katie realized, too late, she was in the path of another camper. At least she assumed there was a person behind that duffel bag bounding rapidly toward her. Before Katie could shout a word of warning, the two had collided. Katie hit the ground hard while the duffel bag flew into the air and its owner tripped over a timber that lined the pathway. The bag went rolling down the hill, scattering its belongings as it went, while the person belonging to the bag landed at the base of a nearby tree. Shaken, but unhurt, Katie rose and dusted herself off. In an attempt to be helpful, she retrieved the bag and began gathering the items that lay scattered on the ground. She trudged back up the hill and stopped just short of the other girl. In horror, she recognized the foliage at the base of the tree.

“Uh, er, you uh, might want to be very careful getting up,” Katie suggested. “That stuff you’re sitting in is poi…”

“Careful? Did you say careful?” snapped the girl as she slapped her hands to her face in a “Home Alone” fashion. “You weren’t thinking careful when you knocked me down a minute ago. Did it ever occur to you to watch where you are going?”

“Excuse me,” said Katie. “I wasn’t the one with a duffel bag in front of my face. And, furthermore, you still need to watch where you’re going, because that stuff you’re crawling around in is poison ivy. And, unless you’re immune, you’ve got a big problem. Here’s your bag and your underwear,” said Katie as her eyes caught the name-tag in the back. “Nice to meet you . . . Caroline.”

Chapter 4 - Cabin D

Katie caught up with her parents just as they completed her registration.

“Well, Pumpkin,” Dad said as he ruffled Katie’s hair. “Let’s grab your things and check out Cabin D.”

Though definitely not ready to admit it out loud, Katie could not deny the flutter of excitement she felt as Cabin D came into view. A narrow wooden bridge crossed over a meandering stream, which Katie would later learn the campers called Crooked Creek. Once across the bridge, Katie found herself on a large front porch lined with rocking chairs, which reminded her of the Cracker Barrel restaurants where she’d eaten with Nanny and Pops last summer.

“Wow, Katie,” said Dad. “This looks like a rockin’ place.”

“Da-aa-aa-d,” moaned Katie. “That was so-o-o lame.”

“Well, look at it this way, kiddo. At least you won’t have to put up with my lame sense of humor all summer.”

Just then the cabin door swung open and a rather athletic looking girl with a pronounced overbite bounded out, allowing the door to slam shut with a loud BANG.

“Obviously, we’re gonna have a “slammin’ summer,” she said as she grinned a friendly grin and extended her hand to Katie’s dad.

Katie made eye contact with her mom and rolled her eyes. It appeared there actually was another person in the world with her dad’s same sense of “dishumor,” and of all the people in the world, Katie had to get her for her camp counselor.

“Hi, I’m Lou, and I’m the CIC (Counselor in Charge) for Cabin D. You must be Katie. Welcome to your “home away from home”. Most of your cabin mates have already settled in, but there are still a couple of bunks left. Pick a bunk, stow your gear, and say your good-byes. We’re gathering at the Twin Pines Pavilion for opening ceremonies in twenty minutes. Be there or be square,” she chirped as she gave me an exaggerated wink. Then, with a thumbs-up and her toothy grin, Lou disappeared down the wooded path.

Reluctantly, Katie followed her parents into the cabin. The front room was large with several tables where the girls could write letters, play board games, or work on crafts. A hallway led to the back room, which contained four bunk beds. Katie hoped there would be a top bunk left. Last summer when her mother had redecorated Katie’s room, Katie had begged for a bunk bed, but Mom had said they were too hard to make. Katie had promised that she would make her bed everyday. She had even used her best baby-girl pout along with her irresistible puppy-dog eyes as she wheedled and begged. Unfortunately, Mom could still remember Katie’s failed promises to walk and feed their dog. Therefore, Katie had ended up with a white iron bed instead; however, the dream of sleeping on a top bunk still lived, and with any luck at all, now would be her chance.

“Alri-i-ight,” Katie exclaimed as she spied a top bunk still unmade. Almost immediately, she realized how enthusiastic she sounded and quickly checked herself. She was determined to look pitiful as her parents drove away. Let them endure a little guilt for shipping her off to summer camp, she thought.

“Well, Katie,” Mom said, “It looks like you will have plenty of chances to make that top bunk. You only have 15 minutes left before opening ceremonies. Grab your sheets and make your bed, while I unpack your clothes and put them in your dresser.”

“I’m on top of it,” replied Katie.

“Good one,” chuckled Dad. “The acorn doesn’t fall far from the tree. Hey, Joe, a conference call tomorrow at 9:00? Sounds great . . . “

Apparently Dad had his cell phone on vibrate, and he was no longer speaking to Katie. It was hard to tell sometimes with Dad when one conversation ended and another began. Mouthing, “I’m sorry,” he made his way to a front porch rocker to complete his conversation.

Katie found the fitted sheet and eyed her bunk. She wasn’t quite tall enough to reach it. No problem, she thought as she clambered up the end slats and onto her bed. She grabbed the corner of the sheet and attempted to wrap it around the corner of the mattress, but every time she thought she had it, the elastic would slip off and she would have to start again. After several attempts, she decided to pull the corner of the mattress up and slip the sheet securely around it. It wasn’t as easy as it looked, but she finally succeeded in placing the first corner. Perspiring, and more than a little frustrated, she pulled the sheet toward the foot of the bed, but it wouldn’t reach.

“Mom,” she wailed. “These sheets don’t fit. They’re way too short.”

“Uh, no, Katie. You just have it turned the wrong way. Pull that corner off and …”

“You didn’t just say pull the corner off, did you? Do you have any idea how hard it was to get it on? This bed is impossible to make,” complained Katie as she threw her hands up in frustration.

“Really?” Mom said in her I told you so way. “Good thing you have an iron bed at home.”

Katie gave her mom a hard look and the sheet a hard yank. The elastic sprung loose and Katie lurched backwards banging her head on the exposed cabin rafter.

“Yee-oow,” she yelped as tears sprang to her eyes.

“Why don’t you climb down and finish unpacking while I see what I can do with those sheets?” Mom suggested.

Katie hated to admit defeat, but right now, she just wanted the bed made.

* * * * *

Katie’s clothes were in the dresser, and the bed neatly made just as the camp speaker system buzzed and crackled to life.

“Fellow campers, please make your way to the Twin Pines Pavilion for our opening ceremony. Parents, we look forward to having you back in three weeks for Parent’s Day.”

“Not too subtle, are they?” quipped Dad. “I think that’s their way of telling parents it’s time to leave.”

Katie’s parents were the ones who looked pitiful now.

“You know, Katie, Daddy and I wouldn’t leave you here if we didn’t think you would have fun,” said Mom as she pushed a stray lock of Katie’s straight brown hair behind her ear.

“That’s right, Pumpkin,” said Dad pinching her chin and placing a quick peck on her cheek. “Be a good girl, and don’t forget to write your ol’ parents from time to time.”

And suddenly, they were gone. A cloud of dust followed them down the gravel road. Katie briefly considered running after the car, yelling for her parents to take her with them; but the sound of music wafting through the treetops made her curious, and the fact that she was ten and not three, had her rethinking that scenario. Instead, she turned with a shrug and headed for the pavilion.

End of Part 1



Snow Day!

     You look out the window, and through the glow of the porchlight you notice a "wintery mix" falling.  You yell to whomever will listen, "It's snowing!"  Magic words in a house with school age children, or, . . . a teacher.  Kids drop their game controls, adults put down their iPads, and everyone races to a window to "ooh and aah" over the mixed precip.
    "Aww," one wise-guy complains, "It's not stickin' to the roads.  We'll have school." 
    "Look how shiny the steps are.  I think it's ice," replies the eternal optimist.
    "Davidson county has already posted a two-hour delay for tomorrow," announces the family weatherman, glued to the TV and Doppler radar.
    "A two hour delay," everyone whines in unison, "What's the point in that!"
    Sad and dejected everyone returns to their electronic devices.  The kids text message their friends.
    "What's it doing at your house?"
    "Jack's deck has a dusting," reports one.
    "Lindsay says it's coming down hard at her house."
    "Erik lives on Concord Road, and he says cars are fishtailing on the hill in front of his house."
    Suddenly we're all high-fiving.  Fishtailing, that's what we like to hear.
    Mom's on facebook, and her teacher colleagues have come to life.
    "Do you think we'll have school?"
    "Big flakes at my house.  WooHoo!"
    "Joe just set the trash out.  He said the driveway is getting slippery."
    "Joe's driveway is slippery," Mom reports.  Round 2 of high-fives.
    The mood has definitely lifted at our house.  Suddenly, the house phone rings.  Everyone freezes.  Could this be the call? 
    Mom lifts the receiver.  "Hello, Mom."
    "Grandmaaaaaaa!"  We moan. 
    "Tell her you can't talk," we mouth while gesturing for her to hang up.
    "Yes . . . Uh-huh . . . Really . . . OK . . . Uh-huh . . . Alright . . . Well, . . . I'll talk to you tomorrow . . . Goodnight . . .What? . . . Yes . . .Uh-huh . . . Really? . . . OK then . . .Goodnight."
    "Did the phone beep while you were talking?  Was anyone else trying to call?"
    Another trip to the window reveals larger flakes falling, and . . . the road is covered.  We turn to see little brother with his pajamas buttoned crooked and his pants on backwards.  He's wiggling and gyrating as though he just sat in an ant hill.
    "What's up with that?" we ask.
    "It's the snow dance," he replies. "I learnded it at school."
    Soon we're all dancing, and laughing, and hoping, and suddenly, the phone rings again.  And this time I answer it, and it's just what I wanted to hear.  I'm nodding and I'm grinning . . . 'cause tomorrow is a SNOWDAY!