"a reader lives a thousand lives before he dies"

I’m too busy. Staff training is on, and I’m stressing just to keep the schedule on track. Maybe next week when camps start and I can have some time to myself I’ll queue up something good to post.

Until then, Viva Argentina (Germany is going DOOOOOOOOOOOWN!), and God bless you!

So, it has been raining a lot here in Southern Saskatchewan. Everything is soaked and saturated and flooding (except our pool here at camp, but that’s a different story and a prayer request). Our dinky little creek has burst its banks due to an upstream dam filling and releasing more water per second. Naturally, My Boys saw the potential in this swift current (pun intended) and we took a short kayaking trip Saturday night. The deeper waters made for an enjoyable trip, but other than a quicker than normal current, there wasn’t any impressive rapids.

Very early Sunday morning, our camp director took a longer trip to the Stewart Valley bridge, about three and a half hours. He told My Boys about it, and wagered them that they couldn’t do the trip without flipping. So at about 4:00pm three of us set out for the SV bridge.

The farther we went, the more intense the rapids got. It was amazing! I was on top of the world! It was so much fun! The guys were dumping quite often, so I’d go first through each set of rapids so that I could pull over in the smooth waters to wait for them. All the while I was assuming that I was just a pretty awesome kayaker, as they were flipping and I wasn’t, but it turns out that just because I was lighter, I wasn’t getting as much water dumped into my kayak, so I wasn’t in much danger of flipping.

We hit a long section of very intense rapids, and I started to get worried about the amount of water in the bottom of my kayak. It was kind of throwing me back and forth a lot, and I knew that I was going to flip if I couldn’t get to shore and dump my kayak. But the long section of rapids made this impossible and I ended up flipping my kayak and falling out. It was very deep where I fell, along a curve near a sandy cliff, so I just rode it out for a while. I passed Jared, who had flipped, too, but close enough to the cliff that he could get out and right his kayak. Then, on the opposite shore I saw a beaver. It was the most memorable thing! It just stared at me as I rushed by, even thought I tried to scare it into motion with shrieks and funny noises.

I let the current pull me away from the Boys for a while, but after a while I started to realize that I was moving too quickly, and too far from either bank, and basically out of my own control. I only felt fear once I hit my legs on some rocks. The water got pretty shallow where I was, but the current didn’t slow at all. I started to wonder what it would feel like to break a leg. The Boys were far behind me now. I had gone for a kilometre or more. I realized that I had to let go of the kayak in order to be able to swim to shore and pull myself to the bank. Which is what I did, but the grass underneath me was very slippery and hard to grasp. After a struggle with the grass, I was able to pull myself to shore, through some sandy mud and onto the base of the cliff. 

I waited there, shaking and moaning, watching for the Boys to go by, and eventually they did. Jared tried to navigate towards me, and ended up on the same side of the river as me, but David kept going around the turn, and ended up on the left bank. It turned out that just around the bend was the only barb-wired fence still standing. Had I kept going, I would have gotten caught up on it for sure. Not a pretty picture.

Well, the rest of the story is that Jared and I climbed a nearby hill to see where we were; saw a farm yard; got David across the river to our side; pulled the two kayaks over to the farm; called for our ride and laid in the grass until it came.

I survived with minimal bruises, but I’m very sore and stiff and tired today. Then again, I’d probably be this sore after kayaking two days in a row anyway. I was pretty shaken up afterwards, but calmed down pretty quickly, and even as soon as I was able to talk to the Boys I was laughing about it. That stupid beaver watching me float by just kills me every time!

• Wake up; its 8:06 and I have a staff meeting over breakfast at 8:30.
• No time for make-up; brush the hair.
• Roll up the sleeves on my cardigan, its going to be a hot day.
• Make coffee; throw bread in the toaster for me and someone else.
• Eat; pray; love.
• Change the welcome sign at the entrance to camp: 55 Plus Camp starts today, and the seniors will arrive way before the 10:00 registration.
• Clean and tidy things. Run around camp handing out schedules and caramel apple pops to My Boys.
• Find time for make-up.
• Make up a schedule for chores; quickly check the bathrooms.
• Greet the cooks and the first seniors to arrive.
• Make sure that My Boys have work to do.
• LUNCH (Eat delicious foods).
• Make a sign-up sheet for skills for two days from now.
• Help Liz with cleaning the office floor.
• The Health Inspector arrives; I take her around to all the cabins and eat haystack cookies as she tests the well water.
• Watch the seniors play Bocce ball; try to get a second game started, but end up sitting in the shade as a spectator.
• Run around camp trying to find the rest of My Boys as the baseball diamond needs to get ready. Give up.
• Play softball, staff vs. seniors: 30 vs 5. While playing outfield: they are safe as long as they are within 3 feet of the base.
• Playing shortstop: avoid the grounders, and bruising my shins.
• It’s almost time for supper: check with the cooks that they are on time.
• Find the camp cat - hang out with her under the patio while waiting for the meal.
• Pose for a picture.
• More delicious food. Talk with the seniors about where I am from and what my role at camp is.
• Do dishes and dining hall clean up.
• Spot mop.
• Label the bags of sugar and flour, while Dan carries them up to the storage room.
• Catch the middle and end of chapel.
• Send the Boys to start the campfire.
• Have a snack with the seniors around the campfire.
• Put aloe gel on my sunburned feet.
• Convince Jared to go into the dining hall attic to check on a raccoon he had shot three days earlier (He’ll go if I go).
• Freak out about asbestos and raccoon tracks, but see nothing.
• Decide to help My Boys clear the old mini golf course at the top of the hill. Change into jeans and put on bug spray.
• Take the middle seat in the old brown truck; only take one tool.
• Check out the course, think its impossible; send Dan for the weed-whacker.
• Look for a stick to clear golf-holes.
• Give up and lay in the tall grass; Jared decides to cover me in grass.
• I hide on Dan, giggling like a loon. Jared calls out things to convince Dan that I’m down the hill.
• Get caught; I’m laughing too loud.
• Convince Jared that it’s not useless work, as it something to do this evening, even if we probably won’t use the course… ever.
• See David’s new haircut.
• Lay in the grass again, get covered with more grass, because it keeps the mosquitos away. See a lovely little ladybug.
• Pile into the truck.
• Find grass everywhere; worry about ticks.
• It’s getting late. Say good-night to My Boys.
• Blog about my day.

It’s Argentina, duh!