Daddy says no fire in the morning!

First camping trip of the year! Recompense Shores, bien sur. And for those of you who don't think that's "roughing it" enough (ahem, Robin), I don't care. It's a paradise by the ocean, and if that's wrong, I don't wanna be right.

This trip was with Heather and Noelle. A fairly diabolical team.

Yes, that's a wine bottle stuck in the middle of the
sleeping bag. It's precious cargo, and we're nothing if not creative.

We've arrived!

My old tent goes up in about three minutes.

But I had to go and get a new, smaller tent. It's so
infuriating that I had to give myself a time out while erecting it.
This tent is a miserable little bitch.

Better!

Sweet perfection in the West Bay.

We were nestled among strawberry bushes.

Noelle enjoying a little glass of sumpin sumpin as the sun goes down.

We purchased a little bit of fire wood. I know it doesn't look like much.
Don't worry, we purchased more the next night.

Now THAT'S a strawberry!

I see Musings being written from a little beauty like this in the future.

Now, if you've ever camped in the Freeport area, you have probably stopped at the Bow Street Market--a tiny, cramped convenience store offering an assortment of necessities and yuppy goods. Well, our jaws dropped when we saw that it's been turned into a GIANT supermarket. I was delighted and sad at the same time. But the offerings were as weird as ever...

Heather, no, put the tiny container of carmelized walnuts down.

We got your standard camp fare--hot dogs, cheese and crackers, s'mores. Basically, anything that doesn't require preparation or cleanup. We're not here to work, people.

Mmmm, s'mores.

Mmmm, Mrs. Dunster's Crunch Nuggets. Wait, what??
Canadians. Gotta love 'em.

"None shall pass" WTF, caterpillars? They were only on my
tent, and always on the zipper. Jerks.
UPDATE: I have a frackin' rash all over my body from these little bastards.

What I notice now is that tents are larger than ever! Over six feet tall, vestibules for days. To me it doesn't feel right. Go ahead, make a face, all you glampers out there. But at some point in the weekend, a woman walked by and said to her friend, "Look--what a cute little tent." And it was. It was the smallest tent on the campground. *shakes head*


It's a bucolic setting . . .

One of these things is not like the others... Wait--Gladys, can you pan in?

Why yes, that IS a flamingo hanging with his gnomie.

On Saturday, I made a morning fire and got yelled at by a little boy on a bike: "Daddy says no fires in the morning!" Sorry, kid. I don't have a dad and can do whatever I want. Them's the breaks.

Late morning, we drove up to Hallowell, ME, to see our friend Robin in her new element. Hallowell has a cute downtown. The main street is lined with shops and hugs the Kennebec River.

Flood lines over the years--wait, who are those sexy broads
walking by? Gotta catch up with them.

Rawrrrr! I'm with hot bitches. Rawrrr!

What a sweet little town . . . Wait, what's that? Across the street. The shop with the Tibetan heads standing guard and the gargoyles on all corners. And to the left--I don't think that spells "Antiques." More like "Antfones." Let's check it out, shall we?

Need a lamp? A lamp, anyone?

A colored lamp?

Maybe a wall sconce?

Missing Dog! Last seen sniffing around the batshit crazy lamp store.

Are you sure you're all set with lamps?

Shortly after the antfones shop, Robin led us around the back of the main street to meander along the river. Oh what delights awaited us...

The lamp store continues! Can you find the cat? Gladys, please zoom.

"Hey, are you from out of town? Please, for the love of god,
get me away from this fucking lamp store."

This little lady was adorable. She mocked the lamp store cat.

A Tonka Truck arbor--I can't believe I haven't seen this upcycle on Pinterest yet...

We walked a little while longer and checked out shops offering assorted ideas of art.

Such a shame this doesn't match my current decor.

Finally, we parked it on a patio beside the river and pondered life. Ha! Just kidding--we made fun of people and bitched about stuff.

After a little imbibing, and a little eating, we said farewell to Robin and headed back to the campground. And I made a little fire.

I am Scoutmaster. I like to burn things.

Ahem.

I woke early Sunday, as usual. And I could hear something in the distance--a slight baaa sound. With giddy glee and sleepy eyes, I walked down to the farm and encountered this:

Holy shit--the sheep are loose. And they're everywhere.

This one's badass--piercings, bling, and a mohawk.

You know how some people like Star Trek in a weird sort of way? Or Dr. Who? Or guacamole? I'm that way about sheep. Can't get enough. So when I saw these babies wandering freely, I slowly made my way to the middle of the yard, sat down, and waited.

And little by little, they got closer. I was the Sheep Whisperer.

Awesomeness.

Thus concludes our camping trip. The ride home was uneventful, and it always just feels good to get home and wash the funk off. Hopefully, this kicks off a camping-heavy summer. I've got to dominate that damn little tent.

 

PS: A huge shout out to Recompense for opening fabulous new bathroom facilities in the West Bay! 'Cause this girl hates a privy. 

xo