Last tent camping of the summer

This weekend we camped about four hours north of LA at Montaña de Oro state park. A friend had recommended it and I booked it hoping they could join, but ultimately they couldn’t. It was the polar opposite of our last trip and will be the polar opposite of our next one - it was overcast and chilly the whole time. Poor Theo had only brought shorts and so ended up wearing a pair of Bobby’s pants the entire trip. The place was gorgeous - unlike our usual forays into nature which involve everything being hot and dry and dead. This place was green and alive - I even got to taste some wild blackberries along one of our hikes. The ocean was cold and wild and forbidding - it reminded me a bit of the northeast Atlantic of my childhood; teaming with life and yet unwelcoming. We all feel beat up and exhausted. And yet in just three days we’re off for the biggest adventure yet - our four state road trip. To say I’m nervously anticipating that trip would be an understatement. 

Something interesting happened at our campground. Our neighbor across the road had a boy with Down syndrome. The second day he came over to say hello, and Theo immediately took to him. They played trucks and went scootering, and despite the boy’s verbal challenges, Theo seemed to find a way to communicate with him, almost as if they had their own language. Bobby pretty much hid the whole time. We praised Theo for being friendly and welcoming, especially to people who are different. It was all such a not a big deal for him. He’s just so darned personable. He sure as heck doesn’t get that from me. I think he also has some empathy from having been in speech therapy for years and always struggling to be understood. I told Bobby I get it, that at his age I was just like him and had a really hard time reaching out to new people and being stressed out by new situations; I didn’t think he should be punished for his shyness and awkwardness. I know my mother was really frustrated when I would act like that, and yet no amount of her chiding me for it would help, it was just who I was. So I’m trying to offer some understanding while still reminding him it’s important to be polite and friendly. We then explained about Down syndrome, which he had never heard of, so he would know what to expect. The parents explained how rough it’s been in the pandemic without schools and much needed services - oh, I can only imagine. The boy liked my Joan Jett shirt. He has good taste.

Now I have three days to get much needed work done, and then we’re off. Tonight I have my first meeting in my official capacity as treasurer of the school booster club, which means today I have to do the scary work of trying to get into all of the accounts and do a monthly report for the first time. Help. 

During our trip the grant money landed in my account, but I haven’t been able to watch the hour long “what happens now” video, which means I don’t know what I’m in for as far as documenting how all the money was spent. My event continues at a glacial pace, and I made the call to no longer allow medical exemptions from the vaccine based on the coming Delta-fueled surge here in CA (well, everywhere, really). But, people are still signing up, and those who are signed up are super enthusiastic, and I’m not getting a ton of refunds, yet. It’s just...eerily quiet. I’m now at the point of no return - I have to start ordering expensive things and buying flights for my teachers. In other words, I have to really commit. Commitment is scary.