I finished up week two of camp at the other site with no problems. It was a pretty easy week, actually. The kids were helpful and not prone to outbursts of any kind. We even took a side trip to the muddy landslide area that had bogged down one of the other groups. I quickly discovered that there was a less muddy way around it, but almost as quickly discovered that there was a Stinging Nettle bush growing in the middle of it. The kids were more interested in getting as muddy as possible anyway. Of course, I was the one who had to pull all of their shoes out of the mud after they became separated from feet.

This weekend, for once, was quite relaxing. The older kids spent it at their dad's house. Lexy and Nate went Friday evening and The Dickens went Saturday morning. Willow had a fever on Saturday and Jen took her to the clinic to check if she had Strep Throat, but it looks like she has Fifth disease instead, which isn't a big deal. While this was going on I went and did a birthday party at a house that qualified as a mansion. It had a long, tree-lined driveway and one of those cobbled parking circles crammed with expensive automobiles. To tell you the truth, the obscenely rich make me nervous. Their ways are alien to me. The kids were great though, even if their backyard was the size of most city parks, complete with play structure and fountain. The mom, on the other hand, acted like she'd been abusing prescription medications. She wrote out a check for me and then managed to lose it before handing it to me. She asked me several times if I'd gotten it already before writing me another one. To top it all off, no tip was forthcoming. Jen's theory about this is that the party was probably booked by the maid, who failed to communicate to her employer that tipping was expected. Oh well. The overly affluent are not like the rest of us.

On the way there and back I noticed that the air was full of butterflies. They flitted and darted across the sky like autumn leaves in gusty wind. Quite beautiful, really. Today, the butterflies have been replaced by rain.

Earlier, an old friend stopped by with his son. We spend a couple of hours relaxing and talking, which was nice. The last time I saw him was at a Blue Oyster Cult concert in 1999, and that was a relatively brief meeting. His son is now sixteen, which is hard to believe somehow. It's always interesting to see a childhood friend in the role of parent. Of course, this is just another reminder that we're all getting older. We are no longer kids ourselves, even if sometimes we still act like it. I can still see the kid there, but with a layer of responsibility and experience placed on top. That's what growth is about. Of course, I can think of some people who never seem to change at all, but that's another story.
Before leaving, he gave me 20 dollars because sometime in the mid eighties we'd made a bet that whoever cut his hair first owed the other 20 bucks.

That's why I have long hair.

One more night of just the three of us before the barbarian hordes descend again.