Family Camp in Minnesota

Three weeks ago we went to family camp, and the memories are as fresh as if it just took place three weeks ago.

We go to camp to get away, of course. We spend time in and on this beautiful Minnesota lake. We listen to the loons and hang out with our friends.

Is that last sentence redundant?

We go to get away from the daily grind–the cooking, the cleaning, the commuting, all that.

The sign says “A Meeting Place with God” and so it is.

Three delicious meals a day, and the only thing we do is bus our dishes?

That’s as heavenly as it gets, I’d say. You see why we’ve gone four years in a row now.

This is Dean. He’s the dad from our parish who is in charge of family camp.

You wanna know why he’s smiling?

Dean’s the father of seven handsome boys and one adorable little girl.

It’s a full-quiver kind of happy.

Wouldn’t you be smiling?

This little kid is not one of Dean’s, but he’s the kind of kid you see at this camp.

Cute.

Catholic.

Ready to play.

And moms? Don’t even get me started on the moms we got at family camp.

Let’s just say they were there to the 100th power.

Dads and daughters? Check.

Lots of dads and daughters.

Kids catching fish? You betcha.

Moms nursing babies? Check. Double check.

When the mommies weren’t nursing their babies, they were doing other ordinary mommy things.

Like…

…zipping across a steep ravine on this thing that’s called a zipline.

That’s why it’s called a “zipline”, see? You zip across the tops of the trees and pray that the cable holding you stays intact.

(I asked for the heavy-duty postpartum cable. The pretty teenaged worker just blinked at me and tossed me my helmet.)

They were really cute too, those helmets.

Snort.

We go to great, geeky extremes to have fun sometimes.

We pretend we’re at the height of fashion, like those cyclists you see at the side of the road. I’m always like,“Dude! What’s up with all that spandex?”

Anyway. Take a close look at the following photo.

See that distant platform? That’s where we started.

And this is my son Jem coming in for a landing.

We all survived, every last one of us.

Geeky red helmets and all.

Another fine old tradition at Family Camp is the Saturday night talent show. It takes place after the camp-side rosary and is held inside the same hall where we have Mass on Sunday.

Some last minute preparations and the show begins. That’s the organizer and her mother in the aisle. They appear to be soliciting acts.

This is our Master of Ceremonies, Dale.

Dale is rather into some guy named G.K. Chesterton.

He’s also a pretty cheeky fellow, that Dale, which can be a bit distracting if you’re on stage.

Which I was, at one point.

With a little black ribbon thingy sticking out of my shirt.

How embarrassing.

Here’s my son Jem again. He was “a villain in a black hat” and played the part very well, I might add. (It’s an older brother thing.)

Come Sunday, we’re packing up and saying our goodbyes for another summer. We’re happy, relaxed, and ready for the closing Mass.

AMDG,