Camping in Tropical Storm Debby: A Memoir

The trip was supposed to be a quick, fun, summer get-a-way.  Mom had just purchase a new camper and was itching to try it out.  The kids were thrilled to go to the beach and couldn't wait to have one big slumber party in the bigger and improved sleeping quarters.


Mom's new camper is much bigger than the old one.

We gathered our chicks and drove the two hours down to stay at the Carrabelle Beach RVC Outdoor Destination.  (Note:  I think this is a really weird name. Marketing Department, you dropped the ball on "catchiness" and easy to remember names.)

I must say, this is a really nice RV park as RV parks go.  I can't call it a campground because it has no place for "real" campers to set up a tent, only miles of concrete and manicured landscaping.  (*smirk*)  But, it's super nice for what it is.

Friday night was our first night there.  It was overcast.  Setting up the new camper was frought with hair-pulling issues like:

• A window cracked during travel.  What happened?  I dunno.  Find the duct tape.
• Handfuls of strange poles, a fabric awning, and no instructions make an interesting set-up.  A nice old guy with nothing to do hung around for hours with us, trying to figure out the "puzzle".
• Kids, go play!.....Not right there!!
• Why is all this water pouring down the side of the camper?  The air conditioner?  That's weird.... Hope the canvas is waterproof!  (Little did we know....)



I am really proud of myself for taking on grilling.  Never done it.  Never.  Woohoo! The chicken legs were awesome!!

The place has a really nice pool, which we ended up spending allllllll our time in because:

1. It was raining and it's not very fun to sit in a camper all weekend.
2. The beach was disgusting.  It was completely covered in seaweed, in the water and on the beach.  We didn't really know why until Saturday night.  (more on that in a minute)

Tater-Tot

Tabi

Teegan

Tobi

Noodle

Hopers

Joey, Elaine, and Jeremy came down for the day to meet us at the beach.  They even brought Seth with them.  However, for the reasons mentioned previously, we had no beach fun.  We had a pool though!  Yay!  We swam and ate lunch.  At times, we ducked under floats to keep the rain from beating us in the face while swimming, while staying in the water because it was warm.

Eventually, though, that fun came to an end because SOMEONE, who shall remain nameless on my blog for all eternity because I'm a nice person....pooped in the pool. 

Yes.  You heard me right.  We're talking little-nuggets-all-over-the-place-everyone-get-out-of-the-pool-we-have-to-call-the-proper-authorities-someone-pooped-in-the-pool!

End fun.

Well, almost.  We did take the kids out to eat seafood Saturday night in Carrabelle at a great little place called The Fisherman's Wife.  Really good.  Yum.  I want shrimp just thinking about it.

Okay.  Now End Fun.

Unbeknownst to us, a tropical storm had been silently slipping toward the gulf coast, making little news until it decided to unleash it's full fury on our vacation.  The old guy who had been helping us came by and mentioned we should bring down the awning because "a storm" was coming.  That's about all we knew as we went to bed to a partly cloudy, breezy evening.

I awoke in the middle of the night to what felt like horrible airplane turbulance.  The wind was hammering against the canvas sides of our pop-up camper, shaking everything with a vengence.  I tried to continue sleeping but fears of being snatched into the ocean by a giant Poseidon-like hand kept me awake.

When morning dawned, things just seemed to be getting worse.  Tropical Storm Debby was now making headlines and floods everywhere.  We fed the kids pop tarts and tried to keep them calm with a dvd while Mom and I discussed what to do.  The wind was driving the rain sideways.  We cringed at the thought of trying to take down camp in it.  Another option was to stay another day and hope the storm moved off quickly without destroying the little matchbox we were sitting in.  We also briefly discussed abandoning everything and hopping in the cars to go home.  Finally, we came to the conclusion that seemed most right, yet least fun.  Take down the camper in a tropical storm. Ugh.

Step One:  Put on plastic ponchos and stuff  kids into vans.

Step Two:  Put everything possible into trash bags and run back and forth between camper and van in the driving wind and rain.

Step Three: Remove shreds of poncho from body and give up on the thought of being dry for the next several hours.

Step Four: Watch the camper fill with water as you lower the roof and tuck in sides.  Ick.

Step Five:  Drive for two hours in a crazy storm, but make it home safely.

All I wanted was fuzzy bedroom slippers and a bowl of soup when I got home, but Debby had other plans for me.  She followed me. This happened moments later:

One of my beautiful pecan trees lost a major limb to the wind, falling across the yard on to a white crape myrtle. I mourn the loss, but am soooo grateful for God's protection of everything. I mean, EVERYTHING!  We didn't get crushed like bugs or tossed into the sea.  We made it safely home.  The tree could have fallen on my house or my deck or my vegetable garden--but it didn't.

Thanks God.  You're awesome.

I did learn some things through this trip, though. (I'm really into making lists today, apparently, too.)

1.  Camping in Florida in the summer stinks.  (Didn't I learn that last time?)
2. Always check the weather before going somewhere in a pop-up.
3. That brown thing in the bottom of the pool is not dog food.

Camping, Airplanes, and Kids Going MIA

Memorial Day Weekend:  The Let's Do Something Weekend.  The Go Somewhere Weekend.  The Remembering Weekend.  We did.  We went.  We remembered.

To start off, the girls and I, along with my Mom and the Fearsome Four, decided to go and visit Paw Paw and Snookie in Pensacola.  In order not to trouble my grandparents too much, we camped in their yard.  It was great to see them and I'm still kicking myself for not taking a picture of them.

However, I was fully reminded as to why we Floridians don't go camping in the summer.

It was hot.  Stinkin', buggy, 100 degree hot.  We had to find some things to do other than sit around and sweat during the day.

Saturday, we went to Pensacola Beach.

It was Tate's first time seeing the beach.  A first beach trip is a momentous occasion!  He loved it.  He let us swim him around out in the water.  He enjoyed digging in the sand.

It was still hot, but at least we could get wet!  The water was perfectly clear of any seaweed or jellyfish.  Though, we did see a big fish.  Possibly a barracuda.  It was in a hurry to leave us, so I couldn't say for sure.

Next to us, there was a middle-eastern family with two young boys.  The boys had life jackets on all day.  After lunch, I looked over to see a commotion going on with the parents and some other people.  There was an empty life jacket sitting next to their blanket.  A woman helping them ran up to us and asked if we had seen the little boy.  He was missing.  Everyone along the beach began searching for him.  All I could think about was that empty life jacket laying there as I scanned the blue-green water.  The mother tearfully held her chest and called for him, running down the sand.   The father stood in the water, beating it with his fists and pulling his hair. 

For about 15 minutes, everyone was holding their breath, until someone found the little guy in the bathrooms.  Mom and I were so relieved, we had to take a moment to wipe our tears and breathe deep.  He wasn't kidnapped.  He hadn't drowned.  He just didn't tell his parents where he went.  The happy day could go on.  (At least for most of us, anyway.  I'm sure that little guy was in a heap of trouble!)

That evening, we ate dinner with Paw Paw and Snookie and then tried to hit the hay.  Between the roach joining me in my bed in the camper, Tobi and Tabi's dogs barking every hour on the hour, Teegan's asthma coughing, and everyone needing to go to pee (which made the dogs bark), I remembered why I needed to bring my own tent next time.  I also considered sneaking off to a hotel.

The next day, we went to the National Naval Aviation Museum.  If you know anything about Pensacola, you know there's a Navy Base there.  This museum is on the grounds of the base, and it ain't no rinky-dink operation.  It was definitely the high point of our weekend.

Arguably, it was also the low point, but I'll get to that in a minute.

This place is awesome.  The kids loved it. Teegan's first question about the place was, can I touch an airplane?  Boy, can you....  Everything is touchable, rideable, get-in-able.  Teegan was in airplane heaven.  But not just airplanes.  There are helicopters, jets, hot air balloons, air craft carrier decks, blimps, and space stations from throughout history.

There are also lots of detailed models of different aircraft carriers.  One of them had a fun "Where's Waldo" type of scavenger hunt to do.  Can you find the sailor who is seasick?  There's a little guy throwing up over the side.  Can you find the man feeding the ship's dog?  Can you find the cook peeling potatoes?  That kind of thing.

My pictures are slightly misleading.  Somehow, it looks like we were the only ones there, but in reality, the place was slammed.  Everybody and their grandfather was there. It was Memorial Day Weekend.  The museum is FREE.  And it's a hundred degrees outside.  What would you be doing?

But the museum is also really big, too, so we had plenty of room to roam.

This machine gun thingy rotated as the kids cranked the wheel.

Every nook and cranny had something to see or climb on.

The floor tiles were made like an aircraft carrier landing strip.  The kids pretended to be airplanes landing and taking off for a while.

After, we drove over to Fort Barrancas for a picnic lunch (a historical site also on the base).   We had to do a quick height check, just to make sure everyone is still growing!

Left to right:  Noodle (age 10), Tobi (8), Hopers (6), Tabi (6), Teegan (4), Tate (2)

We were planning on going to the zoo after lunch but instead decided to go back to the museum to finish our tour.  That's how much we like the place.  There was an entire second building that we hadn't explored.

Back at the museum, the kids ran around fighting over who got to be first to sit in each cockpit.  Things spiraled downward to the point where Hopers and Tabi went MIA.  Mom had to call security, probably replaying yesterday's beach event with the missing boy over again in her mind.  I didn't get the chance to wonder if my daughter and sister had been kidnapped, because I was outside in the parking lot, waiting for a locksmith. (Remember that low point of the weekend I mentioned?)  I had locked my keys in the car, knowing it the moment my door snapped shut with an internal "Nooooooooooooo!!!!"

Sixty dollars later, I had my keys just as Mom came out of the museum hauling six cranky kids behind her.  Once again, no one had been kidnapped (or drowned), but I'm pretty sure there was a bit of prankster-style hiding going on in an airplane cockpit by two little girls who shall remain nameless.

The next morning, we sweated our way back through packing up a campsite, bid our goodbyes to Paw Paw and Snookie, and hit the road for home.

WWTW on the Blackwater River

For most of Spring Break last week we did absolutely nothing.  I think one day we went to the park. I also distinctly remember going to the grocery store. We were buried in the thick of normal day-to-day stuff, where I muddle through getting laundry and the house clean with spring-allergy abused sinuses, and the kids geting the laundry and the house dirty with reckless abandon.  It's a synergistic relationship we have.

But over the last weekend we decided to revive the tradition started many years back with my mom: The Wild Women Weekend.  Typically, my girls and I have taken a spring trip somewhere with my mom and her girls.  This year, however, we have a new addition to the family: my little brother, Teegan.  So now we'll  just have to call it the Wild Women and Teegan Weekend.   The WWTW.  And next year, when the adoption is final for my little brother Tate, we'll have to call it the Wild Women and Teegan and Tate Weekend.  The WWTTW.  Ummm, yeah....

Anyway. 

We went camping.

First, we spent Friday night camping in my grandfather's yard in Pensacola so we could squeeze in a quick visit with him.  We stayed in my mom's very old and crotchety pop-up camper, which doesn't so much "pop" up as "wrench every muscle in your body through a slow and painful cranking effort" up.  Super fun.  And because we spent Saturday and Sunday night in a different place, we got to "pop" that baby up and down four times. Whoooo hoo.

About 30 minutes from the city is the Blackwater River State Park.  I had never been there before, but to my mom, it was like a homecoming.  Her childhood memories are filled with camping and playing on the banks of that river, even before there was a state park to contain it.  She loved the idea of coming to this place with her children and grandchildren to create new memories through the generations.

We like traditions, my mom and I.

The campgrounds were fantastic.  Apparently, after hurricane Ivan ravaged the area, the place had to be rebuilt.  Everything was new and well-maintained.  Even the bathrooms, which can be pretty yucky in such situations, was so clean that I didn't have to panic when the kids inevitably crawled on the floor.  (Usually, it's Hopers.)

Our spot was situated on a paved loop of sites with a playground in the center.  The kids were immediately sucked in to play without pause until dark. 

They each had a scooter, which they rode around the loop approximately 953 times each day.

I totally recommend bringing scooters any time you go on a camping trip with kids.  There's sure to be a paved spot somewhere and the exercise will wear their little bodies down to nothing just in time for bed!  Not to mention, scooters these days can practically fold to the size of a sardine can, saving a lot of space compared to bikes--vitally important when you're already dragging your whole life out into the wilderness.


The other great thing about the Blackwater River state park was the Blackwater River!  Just a short walk down a path brings campers to a sandy beach.  The river is naturally sandy and has small beaches at every curve.  Many people take canoe trips down it to find a private beach to camp or play on.

At first it was a little cloudy and cool.  The water was cold.  Teegan stayed as far back as he could, making a disgusted face.  This was all very new to him, and he wasn't going to warm up to it quickly.

Mom convinced him though.  Slowly, he inched toward where we sat.  Slowwwly, he stepped out in the water.  Moments later, he was splashing and laughing.  "FUN! Mama! FUN!"  This was his first time swimming.



Teegan laughing in the water.




The Blackwater River is named for its tea-color.  The dark brown comes naturally from the tannins in the leaves of the surrounding trees.




Hopers and Tabitha searching for underwater treasure.



Noodle and Tobianna getting used to the cold water.

 Eventually, the clouds passed and the heat of the day drove us all into the crisp water.  We explored the nearby beaches and looked for interesting driftwood.  The kids caught minnows and made drippy castles.  At one point, Tabitha stuck a bit of driftwood into one of the holes in her plastic croc-style shoe.  She held her foot up for everyone to see saying, "Look, it's a croc-roach!"  Ha ha...welcome to Florida, where even the cockroaches inspire the imagination.

In the evenings, we cooked kid-friendly meals involving various types of pasta, veggies, and miscellaneous items.  The task of creating one meal for five picky children was daunting, but not impossible.  Afterward, we sat around the fire and sang songs and told stories.  The kids enjoyed the "circle story" method, where one person begins a story, passes it to the next person, who adds more, who passes it to the next person and so on.  This can be really entertaining with a bunch of imaginative kids.

"...all this time I've been kissing an alligator??"
"...and the babies played all day in their daddy's really long beard"
"...so the really beautiful girl traveled around collecting new stuff.  She bought a new camper."

Three days were hardly enough for any of us, and as Monday came, it was hard to tear ourselves away from the enjoyment.  We "popped" the camper down and waved goodbye to our new favorite spring getaway.

Hopefully, this will become a new-old tradition.  Long live the WWTW!  Or the WWTTW... or whatever....

Foggy Beach, Sunny Home

My mom and I took the kids to the beach today. Yes, it's still February, by the way. However, since the middle of the month, the weather abruptly decided to not act like February. It's been acting like Spring. Consistently. Highs near 80 degrees, lows in the 50's. My car is already covered in pollen.

So we decided it was time for a beach day. The forcast said, "Early fog. Afternoon high of 82, partly cloudy." Pretty good, right? It would have been, if the actual weather had behaved the way it was supposed to. Mom left her house under sunny, clear skies and arrived at my house under a dense cover of cool fog. The drive to the beach was similar--one area filled with thick fog, the next area clear and sunny. Unfortunately, St. George Island happened to be one of the areas that was covered in fog.

We got out of the car. We put on all of the clothing we could find in the van. We ate lunch under a pavilion, shivering in the breeze. Surely, the fog will burn off, we repeated to each other.  The forcast says it's going to be 82! I reassured myself.  We set up chairs on the beach.

Teegan, who was following along, eating a cookie and holding a toy, suddenly took notice of his surroundings.  This was my favorite part of the day.  As you know, Teegan was adopted in September from China and hasn't had much time to experience things. Today was his first time seeing the ocean.  He was shocked.  He stared.  He squinted.  His cookie went unnoticed.

I love seeing kids experience new things.  It makes me laugh.  It makes me appreciate the world and my life.

Sadly, it was too cold with the fog and the breeze.  All Teegan wanted to do was sit in his momma's lap and snuggle.

The rest of the gang tried to shrug off the weather conditions though.  Against our sage advice, they tossed their extra layers and ran around in the surf, getting wet and sandy.  The fun lasted about an hour.  Then came the shivering and whining.

Our day at the beach had to end. The fog never lifted. I kept saying to myself, This is so weird! It's usually sunny here even when it's cloudy at home!  We drove back to my house, where the sun was shining.  We picked a warm spot in the yard, and spread out on a blanket.  The kids ran around in the yard playing hide-and-seek and eating beach snacks.  Ahhhh....... This is what we were looking for.  Perfect.  It just wasn't at the beach.  It was at home all the time.

A Little Beach Talk

It seems like I'm always writing about the beach. Perfect beach days, and horrible beach days, and horrible rainy beach days, and revenge-of-the-attack-seagull beach days. In actuality, I've only posted around five musings since 2006 that had anything to do with the beach, so I think I'm allowed a few more. And really, I can't help it. I live in a coastal area. The sand and water beckon to me often these days when there really isn't anything else to do outside without dying of heat stroke.

The daily reports of the terrible, tragic, oil catastrophe have put the beach even that much more on my mind. As it stands, the coast from Louisiana to Pensacola Beach, Florida, is covered in the toxic sludge. We talk about it. We wonder about it. We send each other news articles and photos of the ever-encroaching puddle of black gold. Not to mention, the reminders are beginning to touch my own sphere. Economic problems are looming because of tourists and wildlife disappearing (gosh, I hope the tourists didn't get slurped up by the oil, too). One of THESE has popped up in the nearby town, next to the pet store and the County Courthouse.

And so I think, will this time be the last time I get to take my kids to the beach? I should go today. And Wednesday. And maybe Thursday too, because, who knows when IT will get here. And then it's over. No more lovely white sand. No more floating on the cool waves. No more drippy castles. No more watermelon slices and smiles and beach towels and sand dollars and burying each other and colorful kites flying and

*Sniff*

Don't mind me. I was just having a moment.

Last Friday, I convinced my mom that she should cast her cares into the wind and come to the beach with me. It was a tough sell, but I did it. Mom frowned at the List of Things to Do Before Teegan's Adoption and the half-painted wall before her. Then she hopped in the car with Tabitha, Tobi, and some peanut butter and jelly sandwiches and was headed my way.

A thirty minute drive from my house brings us to Carrabelle Beach. I think of it as a compromise between the longer haul to the lovely St. George Island and the quick jump over to Mash Island or Shell Point, where the water is shallow and very hot this time of year. Carrabelle's water is cool and refreshing, but the first thing I noticed when we arrived were the bright orange strips floating out in the distance.

Another reminder of the oil, these "booms" will supposedly help keep it off of the beach when it gets here. Since BP hasn't yet figured out how to cap off the still gushing pipeline under the gulf, the oil will continue to spread. I can't quite see how these orange floaties are going to keep anything off the beach since (a) they are only about 2 feet underwater, and (b) they are attached to a tree on the beach and are anchored in a semi-circle around part of the beach, but only part of it. The line of orange stops randomly out in the water.

Last time I checked, water could flow around things and over things.

But, we were able to have fun encircled (sort of) by our protective orange bubble and not think too much about the future. We enjoyed our watermelon and drippy castles and floating on the waves because today is today and tomorrow is.... well, not promised to us anyway.

I gave the kids the waterproof camera, whereby they promptly took 36 photos of their fingers, 18 pictures of sand, and 5 pictures of various rear-ends. They also took a few pictures of other things.

As you can see, it was a lovely day. Everyone enjoyed the last beach day. I'm just hoping it's not the last last beach day. For a while.

It seems like I'm always writing about the beach. Perfect beach days, and horrible beach days, and horrible rainy beach days, and revenge-of-the-attack-seagull beach days. In actuality, I've only posted around five musings since 2006 that had anything to do with the beach, so I think I'm allowed a few more. And really, I can't help it. I live in a coastal area. The sand and water beckon to me often these days when there really isn't anything else to do outside without dying of heat stroke.

The daily reports of the terrible, tragic, oil catastrophe have put the beach even that much more on my mind. As it stands, the coast from Louisiana to Pensacola Beach, Florida, is covered in the toxic sludge. We talk about it. We wonder about it. We send each other news articles and photos of the ever-encroaching puddle of black gold. Not to mention, the reminders are beginning to touch my own sphere. Economic problems are looming because of tourists and wildlife disappearing (gosh, I hope the tourists didn't get slurped up by the oil, too). One of THESE has popped up in the nearby town, next to the pet store and the County Courthouse.

And so I think, will this time be the last time I get to take my kids to the beach? I should go today. And Wednesday. And maybe Thursday too, because, who knows when IT will get here. And then it's over. No more lovely white sand. No more floating on the cool waves. No more drippy castles. No more watermelon slices and smiles and beach towels and sand dollars and burying each other and colorful kites flying and

*Sniff*

Don't mind me. I was just having a moment.

Last Friday, I convinced my mom that she should cast her cares into the wind and come to the beach with me. It was a tough sell, but I did it. Mom frowned at the List of Things to Do Before Teegan's Adoption and the half-painted wall before her. Then she hopped in the car with Tabitha, Tobi, and some peanut butter and jelly sandwiches and was headed my way.

A thirty minute drive from my house brings us to Carrabelle Beach. I think of it as a compromise between the longer haul to the lovely St. George Island and the quick jump over to Mash Island or Shell Point, where the water is shallow and very hot this time of year. Carrabelle's water is cool and refreshing, but the first thing I noticed when we arrived were the bright orange strips floating out in the distance.

Another reminder of the oil, these "booms" will supposedly help keep it off of the beach when it gets here. Since BP hasn't yet figured out how to cap off the still gushing pipeline under the gulf, the oil will continue to spread. I can't quite see how these orange floaties are going to keep anything off the beach since (a) they are only about 2 feet underwater, and (b) they are attached to a tree on the beach and are anchored in a semi-circle around part of the beach, but only part of it. The line of orange stops randomly out in the water.

Last time I checked, water could flow around things and over things.

But, we were able to have fun encircled (sort of) by our protective orange bubble and not think too much about the future. We enjoyed our watermelon and drippy castles and floating on the waves because today is today and tomorrow is.... well, not promised to us anyway.

I gave the kids the waterproof camera, whereby they promptly took 36 photos of their fingers, 18 pictures of sand, and 5 pictures of various rear-ends. They also took a few pictures of other things.

As you can see, it was a lovely day. Everyone enjoyed the last beach day. I'm just hoping it's not the last last beach day. For a while.