Camp dreams

I bought a cherry-pitter last year, a fancy little machine involving springs and various compartments. I promptly put it in the cupboard and lost the instruction sheet. But THIS year, with a little help from youtube, I figured out how to use it. I am now a cherry-pitting genius. Dessert for everyone!

cherrypitter

In other news, my daughter is safely home from her first sleep-away camp. She loved it. They probably had to tie her up and haul her onto the bus to get her home.

All of her sentences now begin with:

“When I was at camp…”

or,

“My counsellor said…”

or,

“The ice cream cones/breakfasts/skits/costumes at camp were…”

She has learned movie-star poses, crazy dances, many songs (one of which is now permanently stuck in MY head), pranks, swimming tricks, nail-painting techniques, and riddles.

When I was eleven, you would have had to pay me (millions) to spend time with a large group of other tweens. But now it sounds pretty fun. I think if I could disguise myself and attend for a week, I’d come home with enough material for an entire middle-grade series.

But then my daughter would never speak to me again.

Dilemmas…