The title of this post has been circulating in my head all morning, and I needed to write it down before it turned into a county song in my head.
Oops - I think it's too late - here it comes!
"Oh, I smoke mint-flavored cigarettes
and I go to bed by three
I don't wear socks and my feet don't sweat
Don't look like that at me!
My dog's named Freud, not Blue or Spot
and I don't have a gun rack
I don't wear trucker caps with greasy spots
And my jeans don't show butt crack.
Oh I'm not your average popup camper man, man
I'm not your average popup camper man
Not your average popup camper man, lordy lordy
Not your average popup camper man."
See, that's how the song would go, if there was one. And, in my mind, Tim Wilson or Rodney Carrington is singing it.
Anyhow - it's good camping weather here, which is what got me started on the the thinking about camping thing, which led to the first line of the chorus of the song that doesn't exist, which led me to this point again about the camping weather.
For those of you who don't know, I believe the term "good camping weather" is understood to mean "cool in the evenings, warming up by afternoon." Somewhat akin to "good sleeping weather," but with the daytime meteorologic requirement tacked on.
Good camping weather suggests that you build a roaring fire in the evening after you set up camp and insists that you wear something flannel while you drink a cold beer and watch sparks pop and drift up to a black sky. On awakening, good camping weather demands that you put that flannel back on and enjoy a hot cup of coffee or two while poking the fire back to life, then hunt for dewy spiderwebs or deer prints on your way to the bathroom. After the breakfast dishes are done, good camping weather then graciously turns up the temps a bit so that a morning hike is just the thing to get your blood going. By afternoon, good camping weather warms enough so that by about 2 it's just about hot enough to take a dip in the lake or a canoe ride up the creek. Once stomachs start to grumble for dinner, the cycle starts all over again, with good camping weather making the temps dip lower as the sun goes down and the trees turn gold, then orange. Once the world goes that soft shade of blue and yellow pools of light from camping lanterns and fires start to dot the park, good camping weather really cools things down, and the flannel is once again donned as the smell of woodsmoke and grilled chicken fill the air.
So, ayup, that's what it's been like here the past coupla days, and all the windows in this woman's house are thrown open to let as much of it in as possible. It's a glorious thing, to have the windows open in March, and to have the sound of birds and children come in through the screens while I drink my coffee and wonder what this day will bring. I'm thinking I need to buy a grill and some chicken!
Wishing y'all good camping weather, and the time to enjoy it.
Addendum - I would never, ever, ever, want to have this woman as a friend. She must have come from the shallow end of the gene pool. It's highly irritating that she is what some men think women are all about.