you can look but you better not touch... poison ivy

Spring has sprung and it is wonderful. My African violet has violeted and the lil lettuce seeds are sprouting in my teeny tiny patch of soil. Its so exciting!! The pansy patch I found in our fridge leftover from I don't even know how many tenants previous to Becca & myself, hasn't faired quite as impressively. The meadow tea from Grandma on the other hand is already making my mouth salivate for summer refreshment! Be sure to stop by for a visit and I'll treat you to a spot o' iced tea.

Its not just pretty flowers and goodies for tasting that grow though. My arch enemy poison ivy (or sumac or oak, I just call it all ivy) has also reared its ugly head. After taking test runs on our new zipline we realized some nasty briars were a-growin and needed to be addressed. Happy to be outside doing 'manual' labor I started clipping away at the pricklers. It was a slow process since I had on short sleeves and no gloves (to my credit though I did have on boots and long pants and tried not to touch the ivy). I started to notice other vines growing on the ground and got the overwhelming sense of paranoia that takes over when I'm in dangerous proximity of coming in contact with this despicable creation. Dan came by to take over and I hurried myself away with a furrowed brow whilst comments of '... I need to go wash...' The moral of the story is, foaming handsoap, while convenient and useful for those of us who are too bothered to lather up, is not an effective cleanser for poison oils. Green soap (which is actually orange) is the only way to go. Too bad I didn't have any on hand. My arm suffered a few weeks and is finally looking better. (Apologies for those who are weak in the stomach... its gross). It was close to comparison of the outbreak on my leg from two years ago. That was from one of the famed canoe trips. All in all though... if getting a case of the weepy reaction means I get to be outside enjoying this beautiful world, I guess it can all equal itself out. :)

good weekend = chaco tan

God provided a really cool job for me here at Camp Hebron. As with any job I certainly have those days where I lack motivation or feel like I'm just not living up to my potential. One of the best aspects though is that it is so much more than a job. Its a ministry, at times its a lifestyle, its its own culture (oft times that culture is a big ole bubble that I need to get out of). I know this too shall pass so that alone is reason to praise loudly on the days that I just LOVE what is my job for the day. Today I was walking up the Breezewood hill to lead some low ropes/cooperative games with a bunch of 5th grade girls. I gathered up potentially needed tools that included a foam noodle, some beanie babies, a giant bubble wand, and some kush balls and it hit me... this is so fun, I love what I have to do some days. Its "work" for me to play games with kids, be outside, be goofy. Thanks God!

This weekend was another such experience. I was getting PAID to lead a canoe trip, a Father-Daughter adventure. Don't get me wrong... it is a lot of work. If I had a hat for each role I played they would have required their own dry bag... Driver, River guide, Historian, First aid consultant, Preacher, Cook, Entertainer, etc. But let's face it, it was Awesome! [I'd prefer if you read that last sentence with a New Zealand accent.]
A good weekend can be shown off with a chaco tan. Not just anyone can wear sandals to work (am I making you green with envy yet?). We paddled under blue skies & puffy white clouds - all the while waiting to see what would come of the '80% of thunderstorms' weather forecast. The pictures here record the tan in process, the result (my pride), my canoe partner Bekah (no I didn't take my dad. He came with 2 yrs ago but I'm not sure the non-swimmer/afraid of water combination went so well), and campsite activity.
Speaking of awesome -- that sums up Bekah. I had a tough time finding someone to come with me but finally called up one of my fav families and asked if 12 yr old Bekah Ford could come. Her parents were more than happy to grant her permission, guess it pays off to have straight A+. So she skipped a day and a half of school and got some good life experiences. She learned how to set up a tent by herself, fry up some tasty sausages on the Coleman stove, and steer a canoe. I really can't believe she's only 12. If she's not already taller than me she will be soon. Her maturity and initiative to jump right in and help me and everyone else out was a huge help. As if that wasn't enough, I asked her what she would do with $50 thinking to myself 'I bet she's going to say she'd donate it to charity'. Ding! She flippin' did. Unbelievable. She said that or buy clothes. That's more like it. Her parents were so glad to have her spend time with me and go on this adventure but I'm not so sure who was influencing whom. Hats off the Bekah! You're awesome F-150 (that was her river name).

This is Special K signing off. <><