Fire-Camp Hostess

I love campfires-  the smell of campfire takes me back to some of my earliest memories.  My Dad was always building fires- in winter to keep warm and in summer for the best delight of camping. There were marshmallow roasts and wood hunts, and Mom teaching us how to magically spin water in buckets.  Camp fires bring back a million memories of the camps I went to and the camps I worked at. Melodies of "Puff the Magic Dragon," and "One Tin Soldier," still haunt my memory when I smell the smoke that hangs heavy around a damp fire pit. It's easy float back 15 years when the sun sets and the firelight dances on the faces around the fire to the days when I would scan over 200 faces hoping for a glimpse of who would later become my husband, hanging out with his group of campers for the night.  There are visions of the "Sin-Box" skit with Kris Sipe whining about his lack of macaroni and sore fingers as I tried to play along with, "Jesus Loves Me- Alleluia" and the "Rock."  Campfires have always been one of the highlights of my life, and one of my favorite fall traditions with my own kids.

      This Thanksgiving was no exception.  I bribed all three of my children into watching the Macy's Thanksgiving Parade with peppermint candy canes and Jr. Mints (sad, I know!) I spent the afternoon making blueberry pie, stuffing, mashed potatoes from scratch and roasting a turkey breast.  My oldest trudged down the stairs and moaned, "Do we have to eat all this yuck?"  My children are full of gratefulness (In Jesus' Name!)  "Yes, you GET to eat all of this yuck!"  I tried to cheerfully answer.  Braden wasn't impressed, and looked at the floor.  "I'm bored," he declared. Thinking quickly, I promised a Thanksgiving campfire.   "OOOOOOhhhh, can we have chips- you know the blue chips and salsa?"  "Absolutely,"  I answered thinking..."why did I bother cooking at all?"  After a tasty dinner (at least Chad and I agreed on this point) we headed off to the backyard to start gathering wood. 

      Ashlyn has renamed our campfire tradition to "fire-camp."  Despite being corrected several times, she adamantly insists on calling it a "fire-camp,"  so we just go along with it.  The kids loaded up the pit, adding special pieces of rotten bark, damp wood and leaves- ahhh perfect fire starting material.  It was a Thanksgiving miracle that we even got it started!   Ashlyn  remembered her bag of "porcupines"  (AKA pine cones)  and added them to the special fire mix.  Suddenly, she announced she needed a drink.  After a while Chad looked at me and inquired, "How  big of  a drink was that girl getting."  As if on cue, Ashlyn appeared at the crest of the back yard carrying a hostess tray with drinks for everyone!  They were specialized too- lime bubbly water for me, Coke for Chad and water in water bottles for the boys (Caed's favorite way to drink water.)  Chad and I looked at each other and teared up- our five year old was serving us- thinking of us, and her brothers... now that's something to be thankful for!  

     Here's to more fire-camps in the future-cheers!