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Whoa. That’s weird. Reminds me of those science “experiments” we used to do in elementary school. You know, where you pour in the oil and the honey and the colored water and it makes layers.
Also reminds me of when I went to camp and they used to dye the lake before the parents came to pick us up. The dye wouldn’t go all the way out to the edges of the water, so the edges would be brown but rest of the lake would look like we were in Maui or something. It also turned your legs blue.
takgoti, you went to a weird camp.
Don’t even get me started on the squirrels.
I…
You know what? I’m just going to walk away.
Nonono! You cannot drop that squirrel comment. I NEED TO KNOW.
YES, INQUIRING MINDS WANT TO KNOW!
@Auggy They rode around in this big fanboat and dyed it this really fake looking blue-green color. I think it was mainly because there was a golf course being built and it had been raining for a couple of weeks, so the cast off from all that Virginia clay and grossness had drained into the lake until it resembled the hue of poo. Red-brown poo. It was one of my favorite reasons to shout whenever my parents expressed interest in sending my brother and me back there: “They DYED the LAKE! It’s a CORPORATE SHAM!” [I didn’t even know what that meant, exactly, but one of my friends had said it and I thought it sounded reasonable.]
HAHAHA. Well now the squirrels are going to sound really anticlimatic because everyone wants to know about them.
They figured out how to get into our bunks through the crack between the roof and the wall [no clue how, because of the angling and whatnot should have rendered it physically impossible, but anyway]. Sometimes we’d come back and there’d be one of them running around, and once one jumped through while we were IN the cabin, but one time we came back from activities and there were about eight or nine of them flying around the room, knocking over things, and who knows what else. Never heard so much screaming in my life. They were smart little buggers.
I think that was the year they decided to put mesh up along the crack in the cabins. Not that I ever went back. I hated camp. Too much hugging and group participation and recycled food and bad singalongs to saccharine songs for emo me, and it meant that I missed a good half of the summer swim season. I told my parents that if they tried to send me back I’d escape to the main road and sell myself to the first passerby. Such a drama queen.
That was camp.
It’s funny, because I kinda like camping now, but that’s also probably because I have discovered alcohol. And nobody makes me make god’s eyes for an hour. Pointless.
fin.
Whoa. That’s weird. Reminds me of those science “experiments” we used to do in elementary school. You know, where you pour in the oil and the honey and the colored water and it makes layers.
Also reminds me of when I went to camp and they used to dye the lake before the parents came to pick us up. The dye wouldn’t go all the way out to the edges of the water, so the edges would be brown but rest of the lake would look like we were in Maui or something. It also turned your legs blue.
takgoti, you went to a weird camp.
Don’t even get me started on the squirrels.
I…
You know what? I’m just going to walk away.
Nonono! You cannot drop that squirrel comment. I NEED TO KNOW.
YES, INQUIRING MINDS WANT TO KNOW!
@Auggy They rode around in this big fanboat and dyed it this really fake looking blue-green color. I think it was mainly because there was a golf course being built and it had been raining for a couple of weeks, so the cast off from all that Virginia clay and grossness had drained into the lake until it resembled the hue of poo. Red-brown poo. It was one of my favorite reasons to shout whenever my parents expressed interest in sending my brother and me back there: “They DYED the LAKE! It’s a CORPORATE SHAM!” [I didn’t even know what that meant, exactly, but one of my friends had said it and I thought it sounded reasonable.]
HAHAHA. Well now the squirrels are going to sound really anticlimatic because everyone wants to know about them.
They figured out how to get into our bunks through the crack between the roof and the wall [no clue how, because of the angling and whatnot should have rendered it physically impossible, but anyway]. Sometimes we’d come back and there’d be one of them running around, and once one jumped through while we were IN the cabin, but one time we came back from activities and there were about eight or nine of them flying around the room, knocking over things, and who knows what else. Never heard so much screaming in my life. They were smart little buggers.
I think that was the year they decided to put mesh up along the crack in the cabins. Not that I ever went back. I hated camp. Too much hugging and group participation and recycled food and bad singalongs to saccharine songs for emo me, and it meant that I missed a good half of the summer swim season. I told my parents that if they tried to send me back I’d escape to the main road and sell myself to the first passerby. Such a drama queen.
That was camp.
It’s funny, because I kinda like camping now, but that’s also probably because I have discovered alcohol. And nobody makes me make god’s eyes for an hour. Pointless.
fin.