My son is home! After being on vacation for over two weeks and at camp for three - I was having major withdrawals. (Have I mentioned how in love with my children I am?) His sister and I drove two hours last night to pick up him and his funky smelling duffel bag filled with dark brown things that, I think, used to be his clothes. He is home, six loads of laundry are under way and all is right with my world. This camp is really cool. (www.birchcreekserviceranch.com) It was started by my cousins about five years ago and is located near Ephraim (on the list of my least favorite, dumb ass Utah town names.) The boys get up at 6:15 am, eat breakfast and then work on the ranch or around the community for four hours. Afternoons and evenings are filled with hiking, swimming, mountain biking, rock climbing, ultimate Frisbee, soccer, basketball, hemp bracelet making, canoeing, catching lizards and other slithery creatures that make me scream, games of Risk and Track (where the boys are dropped off four miles from camp and have to make it back without being hit by the water balloons being lobbed by counselors in off roading trucks), singing along to guitar playing counselors and playing prank after prank. There was a speaker, debate night, something called Chapel where counselors chose topics for the boys to contemplate then later discuss and many philosophical discussions.
When my single mom self saw the Mongolian yurt my son had been sleeping in, the rock wall, deck, awning, pathways and zen garden he built and the amazing young men (both campers and counselors) with whom he so freely exchanged hugs and "I love yous," I decided that there just might be a God after all.
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