The kids love tents. The very word makes their eyes large with uncontained excitment. But my wife hates camping so we left the State Park at sundown with the tent in the trunk and turned onto Rt 321 until we finally saw some Cabins tucked behind some fallen pine trees. A tilted hand Painted sign boasted "Ollie Hopnoodle's Haven of Bliss".

We walked up to the adjoing farm house and knocked on the screen porch door. Ollie wasn't Ollie at all, but grandpa Catspaw, Spaw for short. "You'll wanna came by in the mornin and get yourself some bait. We got some purty fair fishin back there in Lake Tahoma.
I thanked him and paid for cabin 4 which also had a nickname, "Hitchcock's Hacienda". We could her him strummin on a guitar as we made our way with flashlights down to cabin 11.

People, I swear that place was a government contracted experimental study on the life cycle of over sized parasites on live human beings.
But once you've seen a 2 inch long mosquito you've seen them all so not to be a kill joy I suggested we set up the tent inside the cabin and we started duct taping every grommet hole and opem seam on the tent that we could, not thinking how many trips we would need to use the bathroom outside.


Its amazing how shrill a rooster sounds when you've had no sleep bu the kids were thrilled...