Momma’s I’ve-earned-this-ass is going camping.
For 10 days.
It’s a festival I attend yearly, and it comes at the best time EVA’…
…when I’m about ready to up and lose my freakin’ mind.
or…end up on the evening news.
or…run headfirst into a wall.
It’s funny, because I not only look forward to this time of year with the giddy anticipation as like a fat kid on a Smartie…but also as the most cruel and inhuman torture I yearly endure.
Because I can.
I’m the epitome of “I’m going to hurt today as much as probably tomorrow and sure as shit like I did yesterday.”
So I go camping.
We tent it.
We upgraded to a double-high air bed. One day I’d like to upgrade that to a BYOB kinda thingy. I’m finding I need more support on my lower lumbar than is adequately provided to me by the air mattress. That, and I look like a fucking idiot trying to get up from the floor. It’s embarrassing.
I bought a little foldy-table thingy, so that I can take my contacts out at relatively normal height…not on the floor from…well…like I just said about that. Thusly, I avoid it like the plague.
Speaking of all things transmittable…this is the first year I’ve made my own special blend of essential oils as an insect repellent. It donned on me that perhaps, quite possibly, the reason I felt like death itself by the end of the week and a half of living outside the last few years…was that I was plugging myself up with a plethora of chemicals from both insect repellent and…..sunscreen.
This year I’ve also switched to a more natural, organic sunscreen void of any highly debatable presence of nano-particles. The thought of something so small entering my skin is…well…unsettling, to say the least. I use The Green Beaver Company (not endorsed in any way by them!!) because they’re a local Canadian company, and it’s my civic and personal duty to spread the love (aka, money) to those I’m geographically close to.
If I find that either work, you’ll be the first to know!
I do bring my cane. Just in case. Because only if I failed to bring the stupid piece of……I digress……I will most certainly require the use of it. Besides, jesting aside, it can get damn damp and cold. It’s agony, truthfully. *shrug*
It has also helped to spread my planning and packing out over several days (weeks if I could, but I kind of have a made-for-tv-movie kind’o'life…).
Several days to plan to remember to bring my compression gloves, a kegger of Voltaren and a plethora of meds because…let’s face it: I can’t remember jack shit.
OH!! I haven’t even gotten to the best part!!
Sometimes we go camping all together, of course…
But this year, my husband and I haven’t been able to go away for a honeymoon (although we rocked the actual hunigmonath…whereby we drank mead for an entire lunar cycle…)…so this shall be our “Mini-moon” [totally said in a Dr. Evil accent].
‘Tis what happens when you have a flock/gaggle/herd of children. Logistics. Sucks bollocks.
Anyhooooooo….I’ve stocked up on a books, stocked up the “libation” box (I don’t really drink much, but this is the one place that I do partake in a bit. I made my drinking horn, remember? *grin*) and have absolutely NOTHING schedule that I *HAVE* to attend!
There’s a river with my name on it…I don’t care if I have to stuff my I’ve-earned-this-ass into a bathing suit…the immediate relief on all things joint/muscle related is immeasurable!
One thing I MUST work on for this year’s attendance is to put my damn feet up more! I find sitting on those camping chairs to grow increasingly difficult as the day progresses. I do have two, though…one “normal”…the other is very firm and stable.
Sun hat and sunglasses are a must, that goes without saying. There are, however, tons of space with a vast amount of shade to just sit and enjoy the people watching or cloud watching…
My husband is the rock of my experience, though. He knows (aka, can read the pain splashed across my face like it was that neon goop inside a glow stick…*shifty eyes*…long story) when to tell me to hydrate, to take a break or to sit the fuck down.
Better yet, I even listen. I’ve learned the hard way what happens when you don’t. Bad things like spurring a flare…feeling sick or…having your spinal discs rupture. THAT.
So…here I am…packed up and ready to go.
Ready to connect again with the land that I love…
Ready to connect again with amazingly supportive friends…
Ready to sit back, “behind in chair…drink in hand”…(that one came from my zombie apocalypse team mate, Lee Ann) with the most dearest of friends to relax, rejuvenate, regroup and re-energize.
(images are my own, taken on Raven’s Knoll, Eganville, Ontario…at the same festival in 2011!)