Getting Away From It All

One of our neighbors has a camper (I'd guess about 30 feet long) that appeared next to our driveway when summer began. I noticed that it's gone most weekends and assumed our neighbors are avid campers.

Avid campers...to a point.

DH told me that most times they go to the local campground. (This is located approximately 8 blocks or so from here and is located about 2 blocks from Main Street and right on the main ATV trail that goes through town.) He said they told him they like to get away from it all - phones, work, etc. He asked if they went anywhere else and they named 2 other places - all in this county.

Somehow when one mentions wanting to get away, I picture a different scenario - or scenarios - which may include a spa resort, or a fiber-related event, or laying on a beach at a latitude closer to the equator sipping a cold, fruity, alcoholic beverage that's been delivered to my beach chair by a gorgeous waiter named Carlos. "Senorita," he says...

Ahem...you get the idea.

I do admire their ability to take a staycation - especially in these economic times. I've never been too attracted to the idea of camping. I doubt there is a camper big enough for me, DH, and the stash. I'm a wimp - I like sleeping in a bed and not having various wildlife running over me (except for the cats). DH has all kinds of camping stories of feeling things running across his face, or the time his brother stepped on a tarantula in his bare feet or, even worse...

WARNING - if squeamish, stop reading NOW!

...when a small mammal (rat, possibly) stuck it's nose in his ear.

Ewwwwwwwwww! Shudder! My skin crawls just typing that.

Lately, my way of getting away from it all is to grab some rare knitting time (usually at ungodly late hours) and sit down with an episode of Rumpole of the Bailey. Ah, Horace Rumpole, in many ways you are a man after my own heart. Now, if only you looked more like Carlos.