Some people are just camp people. And some people are not. For those of us who love the outdoors and the social and often hilarious part of hanging out in community for a week, camp is especially special. The group eating experience where the food ranges from pretty fantastic to inedible brings campers together in a kind of shared pain/pleasure adventure. We sleep on uncomfortable foam mattresses in homemade bunks with others who snore, get up to pee 5 times a night, and leave their toothpaste on the floor with the lid off. We traipse about in wet and mud caked clothes, particularly if we camp on the westcoast. 
Inevitably somebody needs medical attention at some point over the course of the week and then the homesickness sets in. The longing for my own bed, my own food, my own schedule makes camp that much better. And everything about camp gets absolutely better in the telling.
My husband and I worked at a camp for teens for an entire year. The setting was gorgeous. Remote. Accessible by boat and float plane only. The community? Challenging, as you can imagine. Our population dropped to 7 over the winter and soared to 500 in the summer. That kind of schizophrenic (in terms of numbers, I mean) community attracts some pretty interesting people. We wondered about our sanity on more than one occasion but it was a good learning experience and one I would not have missed.
All this to say, that I have just returned home from a couple of days at beautiful Keats Camp visiting with friends who are serving as the new property managers. It’s off-season, in case you were wondering and not even the cottagers were around so we were free to wander, drink tea and enjoy one another in wonderful winter leisure with all the comforts of home. The food was amazing, the beds oh so cozy and the company outstanding.
Thank you, Bob, Heather and Janine for your warm hospitality and refreshing hilarity. The memories we made are guaranteed to get even better in the telling!
For more on Keats Camp, visit their website:
