hippo.CAMP.us

It's the area in our brains where we store memories. I read an interesting article about some particular strategies to help folks suffering from dementia and Alzheimer's (maladies in which the hippocampus, for reasons still mysterious, stops working as it should) and the most effective was simply to write things down and let the person read the information. The spoken word flits through our consciousness and evaporates, even in those of us with a healthy hippocampus, but the written word cements itself, imprints itself, and the memory is retained. I've known this about myself, that I have a need to write things down and read them; I am clearly, in the parlance, A Visual Learner. I still remember the names of the two adorable kids who sat in front of us in church on Sunday--Savannah and Canyon--because they had stickers from the nursery on their backs with their names printed on them in block letters. Anyway, interesting but not necessarily germane to anything. Except if I don't write about it I won't remember it. And there is great stuff I want to remember. Like our camping trip.

It was raining and fairly cold for two days leading up to the camping, so we wavered on whether or not we should actually attempt the trip, especially since we were bringing along friends with us. Thankfully, the weather cooperated nicely. We were dismayed upon our arrival at the Stephen F. Austin State Park to find that approximately 8.2 MILLION Scouts from the greater Houston area would be joining us for our camp out. And, even with the previous days' deluge, there was a burn ban, which meant we had to make our s'mores over a propane stove and eat MRE's that the husband picked up at REI. But aside from that, we had a really good time. Helena stayed home with her doting grandparents Pate plus the husband really loves camping and is eager to do just about everything that needs doing, which means I actually got to relax quite a bit. There was a moment when I lay in the quiet tent (after the Scouts finally quit with the yelling) looking up at the stars (we left off the rain flap, which made things a bit chilly, but great for star gazing) with sleeping babies and sleeping husband all curled up around me in their sleeping bags, and I was deeply awed and thankful: for stars and trees and wind and warmth in the cold and family and good friends and rest. It is goodness and bounty and I should remember. I will write it down. And show a few pictures:

June and Harper whistling with laps full of Spanish moss:


Boys in the hoods:


We by the Brazos:

The end.