Part of the trip included two camping trips, so before we left, I gathered all the supplies and kind of let my mind exaggerate what was really "needed". I was thinking about camping food and thought, "Hmm, I have all the making of S'Mores, we can have that when we go camping."
Keep in mind that my furnace was still on when we left Washington, and I was wearing pants and a knit jacket. It was also pouring rain. Obviously, I wasn't thinking about the intense car heat awaiting my Toyota in Southeastern Idaho.
 |
| These marshamallows have seen better days - Marshamallow Creme anyone? |
 |
| I'm so glad the choclate didn't escape the wrapper - so glad. |
So, in went my marshamallows, chocolate bars, and graham crackers. And, guess what, those three items are the most welll-traveled "S'More" makings in the country. I carted those things around everywhere I went, by the 3rd or 4th day, realized the marshamallows couldn't take treatment I was giving them (leaving them in a grocery bag in my car in 90+ degree temperatures) and the Hershey bar wasn't far behind.
 |
| I need to find a fire pit. |
I'm reading your mind. Why didn't I just make S'Mores? Well, at the first family reunion, I realized I probably didn't have enough supplies for the big crew and we were having dutch oven peach cobbler -- who's thinking of S'Mores when there is cobbler around the corner? Honestly, I also didn't want to go to the trouble of pulling out this gooey mess without clean running water closeby (kids way outnumbered the adults - it would have been Meeeesssssyy.)
The second camping trip was fire-less.
Ha - ha, it was a first for me too. It was still fun.
The family story I am reminded of is when my Grandpa insisted on buying the butter in Idaho for Thanksgiving dinner to be held in St. George UT - something like 7 hours away. When my family's full car pulled into my grandpa's home to pick him up for the big trip, he came out with a case of butter. He was insistent. My dad simply couldn't talk him out of bringing the butter. The argument that butter is sold in Southern Utah was pointless. Grandpa was meeting the agreement, he agreed to provide the butter and he did it. So, in our already-cramped station wagon, we packed the butter away.
I am pretty sure he packed his pound of butter on his lap the entire drive! That was the trip I remember grandpa pointing to the green road signs (not being able to read them because of his poor eyesight, and.saying "that sign should say...
ReplyDeleteHe got every one right!
I remember that grandpa wore the same outfit the whole time we were down there, and his "suitcase" was a ziplock bag with his bathroom items in it. That's all he brought-that and the butter:)
ReplyDeleteMelissa - I remember that too. Only, you were sitting right next to him so you could see him pointing. I was in the back with Jane and Jess, so we only heard it. I was amazed at that and think about it when I go places. Our kids, with all of their technology will never have that kind of memory right?
ReplyDeleteJanie - you have the best memory, I had fogotten about his ziploc suitcase but can now picture it so clearly. Grandpa was so cute. He was so happy to be going back to Dixie.