







We took a walk at least once a day to hunt for moose. Everett had no clue what they were (he alternated between saying "neigh" and "moo" when we saw them) but he begged constantly to see more. Moose hunts with your baby are WAY BETTER than snipe hunts with the girls at girls' camp.



One afternoon we had a heavenly family nap with the windows open, then drove up to Silver Lake, coincidentally where John and I had our first date, to stroll around the boardwalk and grab an ice cream. Really that's all too great to even be allowed in one single sentence but I have to memorialize that perfect Saturday here.




And then Everett supervised John's attempts to get the heater working.


This is the face of a child who never gets juice boxes at home. I'm only a nice mom when we go on vacation apparently.





Our entire camp was surrounded by patches of wild strawberries. So if heaven was a campsite, it would clearly be this one.





He didn't care for the fire and covered his eyes for the first twenty minutes or so then squinted at it the rest of the time. Gotta protect those retinas. He did warm up to it a little once he discovered he could throw pine cones into it.


We cut the trip one night short because the temperature dipped a little too low for our taste (especially Everett's) and went home Sunday night instead of Monday, but we ended the long weekend with a barbecue and a second round of s'mores in my parents' backyard for good measure. So all in all, I'd relive the whole thing at least 20 more times if that were an option.
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