Friday, May 31, 2013

Feeding the Hordes Continues, Part VIII

It's a beautiful night. Just gorgeous. The birds are singing. The sky is that clear blue that lets you see into the deep beyond. And the temperature is up in the sixties. All winter and spring, I didn't envy Mike his camping. Now, I want to be snuggled up next to him, sitting on a log we're sharing and watching the flames in a fire while the boys roast marshmallows and burn sticks.

I'm enjoying a lull in the storm. Early tomorrow, about when the morning sun begins to warm Mike's tent and the birds sing their morning song, I'll get up and head over to the Eagles Lodge to warm up the grill. Maybe I'll sing a song too, as long as it isn't too embarrassing for Nick. I don't work to embarrass him. I really don't.

Once things get going, I'm going to arm myself with a sponge and some spray cleaner. I'll look busy, but I'm going to be looking at how things are moving along. My job is to smile and encourage the boys. That's all, except I'll be the one everyone comes to with questions. Can I redirect that to the senior patrol leader? Will he know the answers? The sponge and cleaner will help keep me focused. I have no idea why, but I operate more smoothly when I have something in my hands, a pen, a camera, a sponge. If you told me that my brain didn't function without my hands, I'd probably nod my head and write a note about it.

I imagine burned pancakes and sticky syrup on carpet. I need to imagine beautiful plates of food and happy boys and customers. We're serving pancakes, sausages, bacon, strawberries, whipped cream, coffee, orange juice, and milk. When it's all over, I'll have the pancake flippers throw some chocolate chips on the pancakes and the boys will eat. I'm hoping there will be whipped cream left so they can put huge piles of it on their pancakes. Maybe there will be strawberries left too. Maybe we can keep up with the dishes as we go along. Maybe we'll even make enough money to do what Mike needs it to do. to even out the cost of going to camp.

There isn't anything else I can do until morning. I'm going to bed, but I'm not sure I can sleep yet. I've planned enough time in the morning to stop at the coffee hut. If I can't sleep now, I can sleep tomorrow afternoon. When I snuggle in, I can lay there and breathe until I've said it to myself enough times:

I've done my best and it's going to be okay. If not, I'll have a story to tell.

Thank you for listening, jb

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