By Patti Parish-Kaminski, Publisher
Mr. Kaminski’s idea of “glamping” with a window unit. I’ll miss him.
Mr. Kaminski is all in for new adventures these days. Strange, out of the box, different adventures – not things we would normally do, or for me, care to do – ever. I sincerely have no idea what has transpired to create this new mindset, but clearly it merits investigation as it’s downright disturbing.
“Are you sick and not telling me?” was my first inquiry regarding his suggestions for new yet arduous adventures.
“Of course not,” was his immediate reply. “I’m just thinking of new places to go and things to do. It’s fun trying new things – doing something different.”
Not at all pleased with his disquieting response, nor that fact that we are having this discussion in June when it’s a hundred and hell in Texas, I’m shook.
Now I’m all up for a grand adventure – the word “grand” being my disclaimer. I could be described as adventurous, with a plan. A solid, well thought out, written in stone complete with reservations and significant accommodations type plan. I can forgo the itinerary, but I don’t like it. I’m not a willy nilly type traveler. I’m adventurous when I pack fewer than four pair of shoes and take only two bags. That’s a big-time, all in adventure for this girl.
The other day while traveling to Jackypoo’s graduation party down River Road in New Braunfels, Mr. Kaminski’s adventurous spirit once again reared its ugly head.
“In college, we spent a lot time in the hill country hiking, exploring, going to different places,” he shared out of the blue.
“Uh huh,” was my pensive response. I knew something was coming. Then it happened. He said the “C” word.
“See all these folks camping along the river? We used to go camping a lot.”
Now I would rather have my entire shoe collection disappear overnight than ever go camping. And I adore my shoe collection and am seldom without at least three pair wherever I go. There’s even back up shoes in Bonita’s trunk at any given time. I do not play when it comes to shoes.
Camping? Really? I have temperature regulation issues. I cannot get up from the ground. Biting insects love me. I require hot showers daily in order to function along with fluffy, hotel grade towels. I need duvets and 500-thread count sheets atop princess mattresses. I have never and will never cook over an open flame. Heck, I don’t even have a gas stove as Mr. Kaminski deemed that unsafe given my culinary limitations.
At this point Mr. Kaminski led into a discussion about how the amenities of camping have vastly improved over the past few decades. I agreed as when Bub was a Boy Scout, and my dynamic duo went on father/son campouts, I had them outfitted properly. They had a two-room tent with battery-operated fans and electric blankets in each room, along with a covered porch and gliders. “Be prepared” was the Scout motto, and I took that seriously preparing for the ever-changing Texas weather.
I equipped my babies with a battery-operated movie projector and screen, which promptly got Mr. Kaminski kicked out of one wilderness excursion as all of the boys wanted to be at Kolton’s tent watching movies, and the Scout leader indicated this was not “roughing it.” I have no idea what his issue was. I don’t “rough” anything.
Then, we saw it. “Look honey, there’s a tent with a window unit. I can get you one of those.”
Let’s just say my reaction was less than enthusiastic, and in my defense, it’s a small bruise and will heal quickly. See y’all next week – on the porch!
Patti Parish-Kaminski
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