#they probably do have some educational thing set up for the full time campers

[lovevalley45]

listen ik this is a “you’re thinkin too hard abt it” moment but. camp half blood is generally for like middle schoolers n high schoolers, and there are some full time campers but a lot of them are just there for the summer

so what kind of support system in place was there for them taking care of a seven yo old annabeth chase like i’m not saying it’s completely infeasible but i’m like. who is taking care of this girl. who is teaching her her multiplication tables. chiron? the older kids in the athena cabin? luke? wine uncle mr. d??

i’m just saying i have questions

[caretaker-au]

Subterfuge

Interlude: Kindness

Spring 2031

—

Today should have been a wonderful day. After all, it was a day that Chara had been dreaming about for the past 3 years, loading and reloading, hoping fate would deliver to them another human soul. And today, it had. Lounging comfortably beneath the gnarled black tree in the ruins, the human was practically waiting at their doorstep. They were female and older than the previous children, somewhere in their early teens. Some sort of fabric was wrapped around their leg where blood was seeping through, but otherwise they seemed unharmed, an unfaltering smile gleaming beneath their green eyes and long lashes.

But of course, Chara could not be so lucky.

Spoiling the sight was the human’s monster companion. Probably still in grade school, Chara recognized the monster as being the son of the Whimsun family. Undoubtedly responsible for the human’s survival, the fairy monster seemed to realize his guilt and hid behind the shoulder of the human.

The teenager hadn’t seemed to notice the monster’s discomfort, instead acknowledging the caretaker’s arrival with a cheery, "Hello! You must be Chara!"

Chara bristled at the familiarity. "You. What is your name."

"Oh!" the child chimed, "My name is—"

“Not you.” Chara interjected, pointing past the human, “Him.”

The winged monster poked his head into view, eyes downcast. “Wh--Whimsy. I’m sorry, Chara, I know I’m not supposed to be here... please don’t tell mom and dad.”

“We will see about that. Come here.”

Whimsy fluttered towards Chara, casting an apologetic look back. Arching an eyebrow, the human leaned forward as if to stand, to which Chara barked, “No. Stay.” They winced a little at the order but complied. Chara turned their attention to the monster and spoke in a hushed voice, while keeping an eye on the human behind him.

“When did you come here, Whimsy?” Chara asked.

“Lunch time… around noon.”

Chara checked their watch with a frown. It was already past 2:00 pm, and they had created a save point only an hour ago, not early enough to stop Whimsy from trespassing. 

“And the human. When did it arrive?”

“I don't know. I found them under the big hole in the ruins, calling for help.”

The timing couldn’t be worse. No matter how many times they reloaded, Chara was stuck in this uncomfortable confrontation between the three of them. Unfortunate save times happened occasionally, but rarely were they this bad.

Fidgeting in the silence, Whimsy continued, “They’re hurt, Chara..”

“It doesn’t matter if it’s hurt,” Chara said, lowering their voice further, “You know what happened to Asriel.”

Whimsy’s eyes widened, “What happened to Asriel?”

Lovely. This monster was too young to have witnessed Asriel’s injury or to be told the gory details. Chara sighed, exasperated. Later they would have to make an appeal to the education department to include such information in schools. Speaking of, the young human was watching them, brow furrowed as they tried to listen in.

Chara pulled a key out of their pocket, locking the front door of the house they had passed through to come here. “Walk with me, Whimsy,” they said, gesturing for him to follow. Whimsy nodded as Chara walked toward the human beneath the tree, then right past them. “Remain there. I will be back for you.”

“Goodbye, Whimsy!” the human called out, “I’ll see you soon?”

“Good�� goodbye…” Whimsy responded. If he was going to add anything else, he didn’t get the chance. Chara reached out their hand to lead Whimsy toward the southern exit. Together, they walked down the hall on their left, where another open doorway led to the city of Home.

While the Ruins had been left to crumble, Home was still bustling with life. In this room, they could overlook the glowing city scape under the vast cave ceiling. Unfortunately, the glittering view was obscured by a heavy metal gate that wrapped around them like a cage. Chara knew that small monsters like Whimsy would be able to fit through the bars, but they didn’t think anyone was brave or stupid enough to enter the Ruins without permission. Not only was it against the law, but the gate was erected to protect Home from humans. Entry through the gate was only permitted with Chara serving as a scout and escort.

Now out of earshot of the human, Chara scolded Whimsy for entering the Ruins, explaining in morbid detail what happened to Asriel. Unsympathetic to Whimsy’s look of horror, they went on to threaten reporting him to the authorities and his parents for breaking the law. As Chara hoped, Whimsy collapsed like a house of cards, apologizing and begging Chara not to tell. Chara made the young monster a deal, promising not to report if him if he swore not to tell anyone about going to the Ruins or seeing the human. Using one of their keys, Chara opened the gate for Whimsy, who solemnly passed through.

“Wait…” Whimsy said, eyes pleading, “Don’t be mad at them, okay? I know humans are dangerous, but this one is really nice…”

Chara opened their mouth to argue, but stopped, changing tactics instead, “I will bear this in mind. If it-- if they are as harmless as you say, I will let them go.”

“Really?” 

Chara smiled, “If I deem them worthy, then of course.”

Whimsy sighed in relief, but his assurance was short lived as Chara reiterated that if anyone found out about their trespassing, there would be severe consequences. Whimsy headed home, and Chara locked the gate, waiting until the small monster was out of sight before letting out a sigh.

Finally. Back to business.

Chara startled upon returning to the black tree in the yard. The human had raised themself to their full height, and they were tall. Freakishly tall. From a distance, Chara would have mistaken the child for an adult if their face and gangly limbs hadn’t given them away. Wrapped around their waist was an apron, dirty with food and mud, and the child fidgeted with a heavy cast iron skillet. Did they always have that? More importantly, why did they have such a thing?

Chara took a moment to smooth out their robe. They considered setting a save point, but decided against it, in case they would need to reattempt the talk with Whimsy. Chara approached the child with their best smile, but judging by the skeptical look the child gave in return, it must not have been convincing.

"Hello child," Chara said, "I would introduce myself, but it seems you already know who I am. Nevertheless, my name is Chara, the caretaker of these ruins. It is unfortunate that I was not the first to greet you."

The child shifted their weight, eyes glancing to the doorway behind Chara, "Where is Whimsy?"

"Home."

"The town called Home, or his own home?"

Chara's smile faltered. Just how much had Whimsy told her?

"Both." they answered, their tone short, "And it is time for you to go as well."

The child's eyes widened, "You can take me home? But Whimsy said--!"

"Whimsy does not know what I know." Chara turned on their heel, facing back to the ruins, "Follow."

The teenager hesitated for a moment before choosing to obey, catching up to Chara in a few paces. Their stature put them a few inches taller than Chara. Troublesome.

There were several rooms between them and their destination.  Chara would have been content to walk in silence, but their curiosity got the better of them. They spoke without turning around. "Tell me. Why do you have that."

"Have what?"

Isn't it obvious? Chara glared over their shoulder, eyes fixed on the pan the kid was swinging as they walked. "In your hand. Is it a weapon?"

"A weapon?" the teenager repeated incredulously, "No, no, this is for cooking, obviously! Though I probably look pretty strange carrying a pan around, huh?"

Chara doesn't answer, setting their eyes back on the path. Out with it already.

"You see, I was camping with my friend and we wanted to try cooking over an open fire. We'd never done that before so once the fire was going we were trying a bit of everything: potatoes, chorizo, even pancakes! Most of the stuff got burned pretty bad, but we managed to eat a few treats before… before…"

Chara heard the human’s steps slow to a stop. They looked back, and the young camper was hugging the pan to their chest, eyes downcast. For the first time since they arrived, the child looked small.

Chara resumed walking. "Keep up."

The child did as ordered, following without a word until they reached a wide room covered with cracked floor tiles. The floor was still intact, evidence that Whimsy did well guiding the child through it. Considering the circumstances, it was probably for the best. After all, Whimsy was not strong enough to witness the death of a human. Few monsters could.

Chara faced the child once more and pretended not to notice that the human’s eyes were red and puffy. "You already know how this puzzle works. Follow carefully."

The teenager nodded, stepping into each of Chara's footprints as they lead the way, "Hey, Chara..." 

The child didn’t notice Chara wincing at the unwanted familiarity, "You sort of remind me of my friend. You're both so serious and quiet, and to be honest, you two have this weird sort of resemblance. Like, of course you don't look the same or anything, but you feel familiar because of it, you know?"

"I don't."

"Oh… okay, well…" the child exited the puzzle of broken tiles after Chara, tilting their head to the side to look at the caretaker’s face, "Either way, it's… it's nice,” they smiled again, nervously looking away, “I keep telling myself, if you are anything like my… my partner, then I know that even if you don’t look it, you’re actually a really good person deep down."

Chara was a bit taken aback by the sudden compliment. For the first time since their meeting, they returned them a sincere smile, "That's kind of you to say. I think I am as well."

The teenager relaxed, relieved to get a positive response from Chara, "I'm sure you are! Should we keep going? My friend needs me, and I've spent too long here already."

"Of course," Chara hummed, "But first, take a look back and say your goodbyes. After all, this will be the last time you see the Underground."

The child gave Chara a quick quizzical look, before turning to face the puzzle, "Yeah, I guess you're right," mindful of the cracked floor, they stepped to the right to better see through the doorway on the other side of the room, "I was so focused on leaving I didn't really appreciate it here. You know, I wish I could have stayed a little longer. Maybe do something nice for Whimsy."

"That can be arranged." 

The human’s head began to turn—perhaps to ask Chara what they meant—but before they could open their mouth, Chara pushed them forward by their shoulders. The child sprawled across the cracked floor which shattered like thin ice, revealing the ten foot drop underneath. A shriek escaped the teenager's lips before momentum and gravity dragged them into the field of spikes poised below.

Chara would never get used to the sound.

Not wanting to get pulled in with their victim, Chara had backed away from the edge, safe against the wall behind them. They watched the dust curl around the broken chasm in lazy spirals, and noted that while their heart rate was elevated, they felt strangely calm. Like killing a rat that had been tearing apart the pantry, completing the grisly act was a welcome relief.

Combing their hair back with their fingers, Chara took a few slow measured breaths, basking in their victory.

Four souls. No—five, including themself. Salvation was nearly within reach.

interlude: kindness // end

[ ✧ START ] [ « BACK ] [ NEXT CHAPTER » ]

[spookysnicket]

Brahms, Jason, & Bubba HCs

@abduction-seduction: Omg yes pls!!! Could you do hcs or something for Michael Brahms Jason and Bubba with their lady dealing with an angry uterus?? I’m so irregular that when I do get it, it is from Hell. Will not stop bleeding (BLEEDING OVER EVERYTHING AND RUINING LOTS OF CUTE THINGS) cramps that make my stomach upset. All I want to do is lay in the fetal position and eat/and or drink/ chocolate all day 😂 I just want cuddles from my favorite slashers 😭😭😡😡❤️❤️ Thanks so much 🥰

---

(Again, I keep wanting to write drabbles instead of HCs- so these might be a little lengthy ): Sorry love! But I hope these make you feel a bit better! HCs below the cut)

Brahms Heelshire

🔥 Brahms is the most educated on menstruation out of these three- after spending so much time in the walls observing mummy and daddy, he’s vaguely familiar with the concept of what’s up with your downstairs

🔥 Though, granted Mrs. Heelshire’s age, it’s likely that Brahms has gone a while without anyone experiencing a period- if we’re assuming none of the previous nannies stuck around long enough to endure theirs in the manor

🔥 It was still rather early in the day, Brahms just finishing breakfast and watching you unload the newly delivered groceries. Breaking out of his trance, he noticed something odd sitting on the counter top across from him

🔥 A surge of curiosity pulsed through Brahms, who took a last mouthful of food before moving his mask down over his exposed lips and scooting himself away from the table. He moved to the sink with his clean plate, eyes still glued to the package all the while

🔥 Picking it up earnestly, he looked to you with cheerfulness in his eyes, “Y/n? Is this for me?” Brahms held out a bar of chocolate you’d made a last minute request for, upon discovering that your time of the month had arrived

🔥 “Well, maybe a little could be- if you’re a good boy, that is.” You smiled, though, in the back of your head now realizing that in hindsight you should’ve ordered an extra for the ever so insatiable Brahms

🔥 “Then what’s it for?” He questioned, sure to add a tinge of dejected tone. “Well, my period. I had a craving, so-“, “Period?” Brahms interrupted, cocking his head to the side

🔥 You giggled a bit at his bewilderment, “Time of the month. Err, menstruation- do you know what that is, Brahmsie?”

🔥 His head popped back to it’s previous even posture and his face flushed- body tensing with a jolt of embarrassment. Brahms nodded slightly before extending the bar of chocolate to you like a scolded child

🔥 “No need to be embarrassed dear.” You placed your sweets back on the counter and swiped up an empty box, raising onto your tiptoes to press a kiss to Brahms’s cheek before sauntering out of the kitchen

🔥 When you returned, you found an uncrusted PB&J waiting on the dining table, with a square of chocolate on the side

🔥 “Daddy always made mummy meals when she was unwell.” Brahms mumbled softly as he pulled a chair out for you. He didn’t allow for your response as he cleared his throat and continued, “What other cravings do you have, y/n? I’ll make dinner tonight, perhaps dessert, too?” Nervous excitement extenuating his words as he babbled on- his thoughts playing out overly exaggerated scenes of you relishing in his assortment of Michelin Star worthy sandwiches (accompanied, of course, by hopes of earning some of that ‘good boy’ chocolate)

Jason Voorhees

🏒 Though Jason is far from cleanly, and certainly one of the last people you’d think of to be off put by things like blood and gore- there are exceptions for you

🏒 Initial dread sets in after he’d walked into the cabin and noticed you lying on the shared bed, motionless and swaddled in red smeared sheets

🏒 ‘Campers? He was sure he didn’t miss any of the pestering trespassers. Had someone broken in and hurt you?’ Are just a few of the manic thoughts swirling Jason’s head like a hysteric tornado

🏒 He trudges over to you in incredible silent strides, ripping you out from the bed to assess any damage

🏒 You, of course, are startled and frankly scared shitless as you’re torn from your warm blankets and deep slumber by a very handsy Jason

🏒 Pawing, gripping, and groping at your sleepy form- Jason man handling your body is an act so out of character for your usually docile and gentle lake zombie, that it grants for your first reaction to be equal concern

🏒 It takes you a moment to connect the dots, with Jason’s hands speeding around you, but he quickly deduces that the deepest blotch of dark crimson is located between your legs. As he goes to heave them apart in search of your wound, you yipe and push his hands back

🏒 Grunting in surprise and guilt, Jason’s grip finally leaves your body as he looks into your eyes in search of explanation

🏒 Flustered and distressed, an overwhelming feeling of embarrassment floods your every vein as your nerves fire off, cringing into yourself and instinctively covering your face

🏒 “Don’t worry, Jason. It’s just my period.” You trail off sheepishly, though Jason isn’t comforted by the answer one bit

🏒 Too ashamed to say a single word more, you hurriedly rush off into the washroom

🏒 While you shower, Jason absently works on dinner- engulfed with hurt and concern before his thoughts are dissolved by one fond, motherly voice

🏒 Pamela makes a very welcomed visit to her boy in this time of need, guiding him through all the wonders of the uterus experience

🏒 Once out of the shower and into a new change of clothes, you’d all but managed to wash off the regret of earlier’s events. You reflected in the mirror for a while, working out ways to help Jason understand your body, and to apologize for leaving him in such a distraught state

🏒 Peering out the door and into the bedroom, Jason sat rather uncomfortably for his size on the side of your now made bed

🏒 Standing in the doorway, you mustered the best explanation you could. Jason leaped forward, cutting you off mid apology, and pressed you to him in a tight embrace. It was another rather unusually forward gesture from Jason, but one you found comforting- gladly reciprocating it

Bubba Sawyer

🐓 When it comes to Bubs, his family is a big part of his character, so that’s where we’ll start

🐓 These boys, ohhh these boys- the Sawyer clan has always had a strongly unbalanced gender ratio, so you’ll be mostly on your own when your monthly friend visits downtown

🐓 While Drayton has some experience with the cycle, he gets grossed out by it and wants absolutely nothing to do with helping you out. If you’re willing to argue for it, you can get excused from chores until the flow ends- as long as you promise not to bring up the topic around him again

🐓 Chop Top and Nubbins know that you bleed, but they never quite got the grasp of why. It probably won’t prove much worth to try and explain it to them either, since they won’t stop giggling like a bunch of school girls the whole lesson

🐓 And Bubba, poor Bubba, has no clue as to why one morning he woke up beside you with your legs all bloody. It sure as hell nearly gave him an aneurysm as he flailed over himself to shake you awake with mortified whinnies and screeches

🐓 Your makeshift pad was no match for the wrath the old ovaries had harbored overnight, it seemed

🐓 As you’d not thought to mention or explain your period to Bubbsie, he’d gone and thought that during his restless sleep- he steamrolled you flat as a mat, and you’d bled out like a squashed bug

🐓 After calming Bub down to gentle sobs, you explain that it’s just “something people with certain parts have to do every month”, bless his heart

🐓 You were so calm about the whole situation, that to him was a full on red alert emergency. You’re so brave!

🐓 Groggy, his mind still hazy from sleep and brain scrambled by the aftershock of sudden panic and this bizarre new information- Bubba was once again befuddled after you casually switched to complaining about the mess all over your favorite panties

🐓 His heart as noble as always, Bubs managed to click into care mode despite his utter confusion, lurching off the bed and over to the closet in search for fresh clothes

🐓 Bubba tenderly laid a set of day wear onto your lap with a couple tender pats before shuffling over to your side of the bed- tugging on the sheets lightly as to ask you to stand so he could change them

🐓 You thought to do so for a moment, before yawning and groaning at the all too familiar sensation that pulsed threateningly in your abdomen- the dreaded morning cramps

🐓 Instantly detecting your unsettled reaction, Bubba recoiled his hands to his chest, worrisome whimpers escaping his lips

🐓 He kneeled down in front of you as you rubbed your stomach on the edge of the bed. “Hey Bubbie, sweetheart, you think we can lay down a little while longer?”

🐓 With a few earnest nods, Bubba removed the clothes that sat on your lap and crawled back onto the bare mattress beside you- shoving the stained sheets to the foot of the bed

🐓 Considering repeating the gentle circles he’d seen you massage into your belly, but too fearful to put you in further pain, Bubs reached an arm above slowly- gauging that you’d push it away had you not wanted to be touched- and delicately placed it over your tum

🐓 Your content sigh was enough encouragement for Bubs, as he nuzzled himself into the crook of your neck and began to glide his hand over your midsection with a comforting pressure- cooing to you with gentle hums

[bevinbrand]

Yes that gives me so many new ground to think of. So em i really don't want to be to much but is it ok to ask about Timber?When you like to write small fics about Timberflash it gets blank.

Talking about my two favorite guys in the series that are largely undervalued and misunderstood?? You mean my favorite hobby?? It’s not too much ever, I can talk about these two until I pass out.

Okay, up front, full disclosure, I’m collabing with @marvelandponder on a series of fics involving Flash and Timber (and Timberflash, if that’s their ship name), so I might end up withholding some things that are directly related to what we’re working on. Don’t want to give too much away. ;)

Having said that! So Timber is a very complex person, the way I see him. He’s also had a lot less screen time than Flash, so has fewer overall little character development moments, but what we see of him has a lot going on.

So yeah, in Everfree on first glance he’s the new Sci-Twi love interest and red herring in the mystery magic shenanigans around camp. But there’s also way more going on. We see in the flashbacks Sunset gets a glimpse of later on that he’s not only dealing with the possible loss of his childhood home and the thing his whole life has revolved around until now– the camp– but also with a sister who’s working herself to the bone trying to keep it open and pretend everything’s fine and who now is getting mixed up in forces neither of them understand. So not only is he probably losing his home, he’s in danger of losing his sister.

And in choosing between saving one of these two things, he chooses his sister.

Everything he’s doing in this movie is rooted (heh) in that motivation. He wants the last campers they ever have to have a good experience too, but Gloriosa is so consumed with making it “the best week ever” and trying to take care of every little thing, that she’s not taking care of herself. So he’s running interference, both in covering for her and the magical mishaps she’s causing, and in doing whatever he can to take some of the responsibilities of running the place off her hands. Everything from wanting to talk to Filthy Rich when he shows back up, to going out in the night to chop more firewood so she wouldn’t have to do it.

To Gloriosa, her whole world is that camp, it’s her #1 priority, and that manifests when she becomes her Nightmare self. She’s trying to enclose the camp in a protective shield of thorny vines so the outside world can never encroach inside and ruin this thing that’s so precious to her. She is utterly consumed by it. Not coincidentally, this is an outward manifestation of the same thing Sci-Twi is doing to herself emotionally through the entire movie, only in her case she’s trying to protect the world from herself. So when you step back and see the parallels between Gloriosa and Sci-Twi, you can also see the parallels between Timber and Sunset and what they’re trying to do through the whole movie– protect the person close to them who’s in danger of coming apart and losing themselves, who refuses to let others help them.

So taking all of this into account, you can see that Timber and Sci-Twi also have their own parallels, in that they’re hiding big aspects of that’s going on with them and putting up a facade of things being totally fine and great! And in general they have a lot of implied similarities, too– they both likely had pretty isolated childhoods without a lot of real friendships, they’re both smart and self-educated to varying degrees, they’re both dorky goofballs who like making really corny jokes, and they’re both a bit socially awkward. The major difference there being that Sci-Twi lacks the self-confidence to shrug it off, where I see Timber as knowing exactly who he is and being okay with that.

He was raised in the woods, at a camp, where people would come and stay a while, but never forever. So if he made friends, they’d eventually leave and go back to their real lives. With it being all but spelled out that Gloriosa and Timber’s parents died (long enough ago that Gloriosa has to introduce Timber to their old friends, so he must have been pretty young), it makes so much sense that he’d want to leave the camp and go be “normal” like all the other kids and have real friends to play with. And the fact that he opens up about this to Sci-Twi when he’s normally very “hey campers, let’s do arts and crafts (dad joke)” with everyone speaks to that sense of loneliness, and the idea that of all of them there she’d be the one to get it the most. And that only comes halfway through the film– prior to that he talks to her the same way he does to everyone else. This scene is the first time we’ve seen him let his guard down and speak genuinely to someone, and we can see it takes him by surprise too. It’s not something he’s used to doing.

That sort of on-stage counselor persona vs his more normal, real self is most pronounced in the movie, where he switches back and forth depending on the circumstances and who he’s talking to, but we see it a bit in the season one shorts, too. If he’s acting in a professional/authoritative capacity like being a lifeguard, he’s got a bit of the reflexive armor up until something happens to bring it down, and then he’s back to being less “mister camp guy” and more of his genuine self. That reflexive humor thing tends to be present in moments where he’s probably feeling anxious or vulnerable, like just before he asked Sci-Twi out at the end of the movie, or at the start of their planetarium date.

We also see in the beach short with AJ that he also has a competitive side, and is definitely used to being in charge of people and taking care of others, although doesn’t seem to have any issues with seven superpowered women taking charge. He is also weirdly terrified of sea monsters, which makes me wonder if there’s a story there.

So all in all, Timber seems like a guy with a lot going on under the surface, who can be hard to get to know until he lets his guard down, who’s had to overcome a lot of trauma and in a lot of ways has had to grow up too fast. He’s always had a lot on his shoulders and the thing he’s wanted most in his life is to be part of things and to be part of a group and find lasting connections with people. He’s odd and awkward but he knows it and accepts who he is in a way most teenagers don’t. Not getting to explore him more is one of my bigger disappointments with the series, especially seeing him interact with the other girls more, and getting to see who he is outside the camp setting. There was a lot there that was worth looking at more closely.

Hope that helps! Good luck with your writing. :)

[shadow-light19]

The Wolf of Lilac Lake: Muzzling the Dog

Summary: David has his suspicions about the new counselor they just hired but he decides to give him the benefit of the doubt. After all, he will be keeping a sharp eye on him. Daniel seems friendly enough, so why are his instincts howling danger?

Notes: I didn't realize just how hard it is to write a cultist. I hope it's okay!

Previous Chapter: https://shadow-light19.tumblr.com/post/173969832217/the-wolf-of-lilac-lake-david-gets-hurt-at-the-end

Next Chapter: https://shadow-light19.tumblr.com/post/174032697582/the-wolf-of-lilac-lake-breaking-free

“Good morning, David!”

“Good morning, Gwen!”

David jumped out of bed and saluted her with the Camp Campbell salute. He knocked his blankets, sleeping cap, and the wooden log squeaky toy he was sleeping with onto the ground.

“Wait, this feels backward.” He pointed at her then to himself.

Gwen strode up to him with a wide grin on her face.

“Yep! But today’s the day!”

David brought his hands up to his cheeks, eyes gleaming and smiling widely.

“You finally realized your love of Camp Campbell and everything it stands for?” Excitement oozed from his voice.

And wait for it...

“Hell no!” She threw a newspaper in his face.

David yelped as he fell backward.

That’s pretty much what I expected.

He picked up the newspaper and read it.

“Help wanted?”

“That’s right. Found a stash of cash Campbell hid in the Quartermaster’s store behind a box of grenades.”

Although Gwen looked proud of herself, David felt a twinge of worry.

“I don’t know, Gwen. Are you sure we need more help?” As he finished his sentence a grenade flew through his window, scattering broken glass on his bed and the wooden floor.

“Sorry! Foul ball!” Nikki hollered from outside.

David whined as Gwen grabbed him by the bandanna.

“Yes.” She growled.

KNOCK KNOCK KNOCK

They both turned to the door of the cabin.

“Hello? I’m here for the job listing?”

Gwen dropped David to the floor.

“Oh my God!” She threw the door open.

“Yes! This is-“

“Good morning! Smell that fresh mountain air. Gosh, now that’s the kind of nature you don’t just find in any ol’ neck of the woods.”

David pushed himself back to his feet.

Why’d she stop talking? Wasn’t she excited a second ago?

“Oh, dear God no.”

That made David a little worried. He peered out of the door from behind Gwen.

“Hello?”

It was a blonde man dressed all in white. It was more of a background thought as David stiffened in fear after meeting his gaze. His instincts were screaming at him to run.

“Oh! Well hello there, friend. Where are my manners? My name is Daniel, your camp counselor applicant. I hope I’m not too late to submit my resume.”

Why does he scare me so much?

“Oh, u-uh. You’re actually the first one.” David plastered a fake smile on his face.

If Gwen noticed he was acting different, she didn’t say anything. Daniel propped his arms on his hips.

“Ha ha! Are you pulling my leg?”

David stopped himself from backing up when Daniel pointed his finger at him.

“No, sir. My name is David and this is my co-counselor Gwen.”

Daniel shook David’s hand. David barely hid a flinch at the odd, slightly bitter smell that clung to Daniel. He couldn’t place it but he knew he smelled it before.

“Well, it’s a pleasure to meet you, David and Gwen!”

Calm down, David! He’s so friendly. Stop judging him without cause.

David forced himself to relax.

“The pleasure’s all mine, Daniel. So, what sort of experience do you have?”

Daniel frowned.

“Well, sadly, my old camp was recently shut down and ever since I have been searching night and day for a new group of eager young kiddos I can help to educate and reach their full potential.”

See? He wants to help the kids! What a nice guy! My gut feeling hasn’t gone away in the slightest though...

David propped his hands on his hips.

“That sounds wonderful, Daniel! However, I do want to be fair to any other possible applicants that may show up asking about the position. Gwen just put it out so if you want, I can have you start helping around the camp as a temporary counselor. You’ll be paid for your work, of course, and then if we get no other applicants within the week or if you’re the best qualified for the position, I’ll hire you full-time.”

Daniel’s smile got wider.

“That sounds like a great idea! I can’t wait to get to know everyone here at camp and hopefully I am able to prove to you how much I want to be here.”

Gwen placed a hand on David’s arm.

“You know, I think now’s the perfect time for me to use my vacation days…”

David turned to Gwen.

“Aww, Gwen. Are you sure?” “Aww, Gwen. Are you sure?” They said in unison.

Gwen nodded. David watched Gwen walk back to her cabin and pack her things for her break. The entire time he debated asking her to stay but did his best to shake his doubts away.

Daniel seems like the perfect counselor. I don’t know why I can’t get this bad feeling to go away but even if it’s just Daniel and me, I should be capable of watching him. I’m just overreacting. Remeber David, you’re supposed to be the nice one.

David waved to Gwen as she took off in his car. Daniel was standing beside him, still carrying his things.

“Well, more fun for us. Come on, Daniel! I think you’re gonna fit in here just fine!” He gestured to  Daniel and they walked into the cabin.

“I think so too, David! I think so too.”

David steered Daniel to an empty bed and desk. Gwen had either packed her stuff with her or packed it away somewhere for safe-keeping.

“Gwen normally sleeps here. If everything works out, I’ll bring in a mattress into my cabin and we can share. For now, though, please make yourself at home!”

Daniel set his suitcase down on the bed and turned back to David.

“Are all the kids eating breakfast right now? I know it’s pretty early still.”

David held the door open for him and they walked to the Mess Hall.

“Actually, they already ate. They were outside playing earlier but I sent them to wait in here because they were playing with grenades earlier. I try to get them up at 7 in the morning. Their curfew is at 10 pm. Most of the kids are pretty friendly. The only one that will take some time to warm up to you is Max. He can be a bit rude but he’s a good kid at heart.”

They walked in and noted all the kids were still playing with the grenades.

“Alright campers! I’m gonna need those grenades back. They are very dangerous and not meant to be played with.”

“Aww but David, I was so close to getting a home run! Can’t you take them from us after the game is over or they explode?”

David plucked the grenade from her hand.

“Now Nikki, while grenade a circular like baseballs, they are fairly sensitive to movement and pressure. You should also note that they can explode, which can cause a lot of damage to you and to the environment around you as well as the fact that these are made of metal and have a detonator at the top. They’re shaped more like ornaments. Baseballs are white, round and have stitching on them. They are a softer material that bends slightly with the force from being hit by a bat and that concludes my presentation on what is and is not a baseball. So! Any questions?”

He placed all the grenades back in the box they originate from and set it down at his feet. He looked up to see all of the campers hands up.

Max is willingly participating? That’s great! I need to encourage this behavior.

“Yes, Max.”

Max glared off to the side and pointed at Daniel.

“Who the fuck is that?”

“Why what an excellent question! Campbell campers, I’d like you all to give a warm welcome to our new co-counselor candidate, Daniel.”

He gestured their attention to Daniel.

“Howdy, kiddos!”

Space kid waved at him.

“Howdy-do Daniel.”

“You’ve got to be fucking shitting me.” Max turned his suspicious glare to David.

David frowned at the cursing.

“Oh-ho! Watch the language there, little fella.” Daniel wagged his finger at Max.

David wrapped an arm around Daniel’s shoulder.

“Watch the language indeed!”

Oh, it feels nice to have someone else correcting him on his cursing as well.

“Just because Daniel here is new, doesn’t mean you should treat him any different than you treat me.”

“Got it! Gah!” Everyone watched Nikki as she grabbed some mud from her overall pocket and slung it at Daniel’s white clothing.

Max stepped forward aggressively.

“He is you, David! Save for the outfit. Seriously, freakshow, what’s with the cult leader get-up?”

Daniel brushed the dirt off his clothes and smiled at Max.

“You must be Max. I’ve heard all about you.”

David felt a shiver run down his spine at the way Daniel said that.

…Okay, that was a bit odd. I even heard his neck crack. Probably just cracked it to make it feel better! I’ll make sure I don’t leave him alone with any of the kids just in case.

“O-kay?” Max looked disturbed.

Let’s just change the subject.

“I’m sorry about that, Daniel. Kids will be kids, right?” He nervously chuckled.

” I have some activities for today already planned if you want me to go over them with you really fast.”

Daniel clapped a hand on David’s shoulder.

“Don’t you worry co-counselor! They’re just ragging on the new guy. I would love to hear about today’s activities. Maybe tonight, we can go sit down and plan tomorrow’s activities together!”

David relaxed again.

“Sounds wonderful! Now let’s get started!”

While the day passed on without any problems, David could not shake away the awful feeling he had in his gut about Daniel. It felt like several times to him that the other counselor had tried to be alone with some of the kids. He would start to talk about negative emotions but David would quickly appear at his side and Daniel would cease all talk about it.

I don’t understand why he keeps trying to talk to the kids about their emotions. Normally, I’d be all for it but he’s hiding something from me. I’m just glad I have advanced hearing.

Since it was night now, David and Daniel were seated in the Mess Hall. The kids had all been sent to bed already and the two were discussing plans for the next day.

“I thought it would be nice to change some of the meals. I know you probably serve them a variety of different foods, but at my old camp, we had this detoxification diet that the kids really liked. I think it would be nice for them to try to experience a healthier diet.”

David looked at the meal plan that Daniel had handed over.

Most of the food on this plan isn’t actually cooked. Nothing is store-bought or even processed except for Kool-Aid.

“I don’t mind incorporating some of this but I feel like this would be unfair to spring on the campers so suddenly. They’re not used to eating like this and it will be hard to get used to.”

David could’ve sworn he saw Daniel’s eye twitch.

“Okay, I understand. For tomorrow activity, I thought we could work on purifying ourselves of our negative emotions. These children are so pure and innocent. I think they could benefit from cleansing themselves from the negative-rich environment around us.”

David cocked his head in confusion.

“So, like meditating and yoga?”

Daniel’s eye twitched again. He bent his neck to the side.

“Yes, but I was also hoping I could talk to them about it as well. I know you still have to complete my paperwork even as a potential counselor so I would like to take them for a bit so you can have some time to get your own work done. After all, that’s why I’m here right?”

David rubbed his neck with his hand.

“I actually don’t have a lot of paperwork at all. I’m going to stay up tonight to get it done so don’t worry about me. Thank you for the kind offer though!”

David stood up and stretched.

“So tomorrow we’ll have yoga and meditation in the morning, and then arts and crafts in the afternoon. Thank you for the suggestion, Daniel! I’m sure the kids will love tomorrow. Goodnight!”

David headed back to the cabin. Once he was behind closed doors, David hugged himself and shivered.

All that stuff about negative emotions was really creepy. I guess that’s why he stops talking about it when I get close. I don’t have a good reason to fire him yet though, so I guess I’ll just continue to keep an eye on him.

He sighed and sat down at his desk.

Now to get this paperwork out of the way.

The next day went similarly. David was surprised when Max came pounding on his door in the morning, with Nikki and Neil in tow, going on about Daniel being a cultist.

“I know Daniel is a bit odd, Max, but unless he’s done something wrong, I can’t fire him. I want you to know though that I will keep your concerns in mind. Now come on! It’s time for breakfast!”

David had paid even more attention to Daniel because of it and he could tell that Daniel had noticed that something was off. Right after dinner, he had asked to be excused for not feeling well. David had sent him off with a glass of water but otherwise had heard nothing from him for several hours.

Oh well. I hope he feels better soon. Let me make sure everyone is in their tents first before I go.

David visited every tent and listened carefully to make sure they were all asleep. He made his way over Daniel’s cabin and knocked softly on the door.

“Daniel? Are you feeling better?”

“David.”

David jumped in surprise. He turned around and saw Daniel standing behind him.

“Oh, you scared me, Daniel! I didn’t expect you to be outside your cabin.  Are you feeling better?”

How did I not hear you?

Daniel smiled.

“Last night I built a purification sauna on the edge of the campgrounds. Since I wasn’t feeling well, I went and completed it so that I could relax and enjoy the hot steam. I feel so much better now.”

David grabbed Daniel’s hand.

“You built a sauna? That’s amazing!” Daniel scratched his chin in thought.

“Do you want to use it? It certainly made me feel better and now that the kids are asleep, you have some time to yourself.”

David jumped up and down in excitement.

“That sounds great! It’s been so long since I’ve been in a sauna and it sounds so relaxing.”

Daniel put an arm around David’s shoulder and led him away.

“What are we waiting for? Come on!”

They walked over the sauna. It was bigger than David thought it would be.

That door reminds me a lot of the kind used for safes. Why does it seem kinda like a prison?

David could feel his stomach churn at the thought.

“Hey, Daniel? Why does it look so… secure?”

Daniel stopped in front of the sauna and spun the handle of the door.

“Oh, that’s to hold the steam in. If it leaked out really easily, I would take more energy to heat the sauna and that’s a waste of resources.”

Daniel pulled the door open and instantly, David covered his ears in pain. The sound of a robotic voice talking emanated loudly from the sauna.

“Wait, Dani-ahh!”

Daniel shoved David inside the sauna. The grating of the robotic voice assaulted his sensitive ears at full blast.

“OBEY YOUR LEADER. GIVE YOURSELF TO ZEMOOG. OBEY YOUR LEADER. BECOME PURIFIED FOR HIS BLESSING. OBEY YOUR LEADER. ZEMOOG IS LIFE. OBEY-”

David slammed his body against the metal door but it didn’t budge. He looked at the small window to see Daniel smiling evilly at him.

“Daniel! What are you doing? Let me out!”

Daniel laughed at him.

“Sorry, David! I normally don’t purify adults but you were getting in my way. I just want to purify the children so that they can ascend to heaven where the great Lord Xemoog can protect them from the negative backlash that they are constantly bathing in here on earth. They are still pure and innocent! They can be saved!”

David tried to kick the door open.

“You really are a cultist! What are you gonna do to the kids?!”

“I’m going to sacrifice them to our savior. They will ascend and be free of all impurities and then I will move on to the next camp.” Daniel pulled out his sacrificial knife and a box of rat poison.

He’s never left the camp though! How’d he managed to sneak- That’s what the odd smell was! He had the rat poison on him the whole time! I knew something was off about him! He’s gonna kill the campers and it’ll be all my fault!

David felt terror course through him. He didn’t want to reveal his secret but he couldn’t let the campers get hurt. He changed into a wolf and started ramming the door. He clawed at the door and the walls but he couldn’t escape. Finally, David collapsed onto the ground in exhaustion.

“Wow! I didn’t realize werewolves existed! What a wonderful gift Zemoog has given me. With a werewolf on my side, it’ll be so much easier to help children ascend. Now you enjoy yourself in there! I’ve got an ascension to plan.”

Daniel walked away from the sauna.

Okay David, think! You can’t break out, maybe you can get someone to let you out!

David took a deep breath and let out his loudest howl. He barked and howled for several minutes and then put his ear to the door. He couldn’t hear anything but the robotic voice playing on the speakers.

No! I have to get out!

“-IS SAFETY. OBEY YOUR LEADER. ZEMOOG GIVES PURPOSE. OBEY YOUR-“

Max! Nikki! Neil! Nerf! Harrison! Someone let me out! Please!

[diamond-song42]

Card Shark 114: Ocellus, Knowledge is Power

Hey there, my friends! Welcome back to Card Shark! Before I start today’s Shark, I come bearing a couple announcements: first, you may have noticed the sizeable gap between this Shark and the last. That’s mainly because I have been doing some major home remodeling and starting my exclusively-virtual Autumn Quarter... and that means it’s time once again for me to only post Sharks sporadically instead of approximately once a week :( But don’t fret! I’ll still be doing Pinktober all month long, and whenever a surge of inspiration and/or free time strikes me, I’ll be back with some more CCG content! Until then, why not pop on over to Meticulous Talks’ social media channels... I played my match as part of the Tournament of Champions and you’ll get to see the inner deck workings of my mind! I hope you’ll check it out!

Now onto the Shark... here’s another category of card I haven’t talked about in a while: White Mane Character! Looking back at my Card Shark records, the last time I talked about a White Mane Character was when I covered Sweetie Belle, Cutie Mark Crusader... back in March 2019! And that was the first time I covered a Mane Character of that color! So let’s fix that and talk about another one, one that is aptly appropriate for my life at the moment! Here’s my take on Friends Forever’s “Ocellus, Knowledge is Power!”

We’ve had Book Horses - now it’s time for Book Bugs. I don’t think I need to stress how easy it is to flip this Mane - like Friends Forever “sister” Manes Gallus, Full of Surprises and Smolder, Culture Shock, this one simply requires a Problem confrontation to boost. Naturally, the boosted side is where it gets fun. Ocellus normally has 3 White power, but if you have a Friend on your side whose power is higher than its AT cost (say, a 2 AT cost but 3 printed power), Ocellus gets +2 power. That’s 3 to 5 power right there! And you’d be surprised how easy it is to get and play a Friend that is more powerful than its cost - printed power isn’t a stipulation, just power. So that Friend could have power counters, a Resource like Ten Carat Hat that boosts power, or just a simple printed ability on it and Ocellus is suddenly bulky. But wait, there’s more! As an Immediate effect, you can pay 3 AT to double Ocellus’s power until the end of the turn. Oh yes, going from 3 to 6 power is nice... but think of the crazy shit that could happen if you went from 5 to 10 power! I’m pretty sure that’s one of the highest power amounts a Mane can actually achieve naturally and without a Staff of Sacanas (it’s not nearly as bonkers as Thorax or Ambassador Applejack, of course, but I’d wager she’d at least be in the top five or six). And the best part? Once your power levels get that high, it gets increasingly harder for your opponent to stop. There are cards that can reduce opposing characters’ power, sure, but most are only by -1 or -2 (only a slight dent in a 5 power Mane) and very few of them target characters other than Friends. Ocellus can slip by that somewhat easily. And on top of all that, you can’t deny that she’s a cutie. Just look at that adorable smile! She presents you this cupcake as a symbol of your new, staggeringly powerful friendship.

No need to be shy, Ocellus! Honestly, I don’t really find any gaping holes in this card that an opponent can exploit besides dismissing, banishing, and/or frightening any Friends with higher power than cost. Practically all decks deal with that problem. My main issue with Ocellus is kind of a lame one. Compared to other White Manes, she just feels so... average. Don’t get me wrong, a 5 power Mane is pretty sweet, especially if you double that power Immediately. But I’ve tried competitive Ocellus decks in the past. And I find I usually treat the power-doubling ability as an afterthought most of the time. I’m not often in a situation where I’m desperate for one character to have 10 power. The 5 power is usually enough to help me confront any Problems or challenge any Troublemakers (if I would even be doing those things with her in the first place). I guess my struggle here comes from the fact that other White Manes, even if they have less power, can hit opponents so much harder than Ocellus. Sweetie Belle can help recycle Resources. Booming Business somewhat constricts your opponent’s home limit. The new Queen Chrysalis Mane in New Dawn sticks an extra tax on your opponent’s cards. Even Octavia, who was stretching the limits of White’s power long before Ocellus, can spread power across the board, not necessarily in one place. I definitely wouldn’t say Ocellus is the worst White Mane in this aspect. I just feel she doesn’t quite stack up to other White Manes, even if she can get huge.

Here’s a few cards that also know the true value of education:

*Prim Hemline, Runway Judge. It’s one of the original “more-power-than-cost” Friends! Prim nets you a lovely 4 White power for 2 AT and nothing else, though she can’t use that power towards confronting Problems. Even if you can’t do that, you can still get some use out of her by putting that hefty White power towards playing cards with higher White req that you may not normally be able to play, especially in the early game. You could also combine it with a card featured a little later on this list for some more insane power - I can’t even begin to describe the feeling of being faced with a Friend like this whose power is raised phenomenally. I choose this card over the similar Coloratura, Happy Camper because Happy Camper has a few more complexities to her: she requires 1 White req up front (Prim can be played if you don’t have a partially-White Mane) and needs to be Cutie Marked (an additional 2 AT) to access her full power (I’d rather just pay once and save that extra AT for other cards myself).

*Ahuizotl, Book Deal. As you may have expected, I have to talk about an upcoming New Dawn card! This Friend is a little weird since it costs 0 AT and 3 White req for 1 White power, but that price and the power you get for it changes depending on how many points you get. You must pay an additional 1 AT for every 2 points you have rounded down (so if I have 5 points, I’d pay 2 AT since that’d count as 4 points) and gains 1 power for every 2 points you have rounded down. There is one thing that is clear for this, however: its power will always be higher than its printed cost since its printed cost is 0 AT. (Unless, of course, your opponent is using the strategy of reducing your characters’ power... but I can’t remember the last time I saw that used competitively). It’s a pretty funky little card - I have a feeling it’ll be seen a bit on the competitive scene once New Dawn is dropped.

*Clouded by Anger. So what if you can’t easily access a Friend with a cost-to-power ratio like Prim Hemline or Ahuizotl? You could always put a Resource on them to boost their power. White has quite a few Resources that could do this, going all the way back to the Crystal Games, but I nominate Clouded by Anger here since it doesn’t have a set power amount (+1, +2, etc). Instead, it just doubles a Friend’s power while also making them lose any printed abilities! I love how convenient it is - 2 becomes 4, 3 becomes 6, and don’t even get me started on those 6 and 7 power Friends. I find this is a good one to play on Friends that have “when this card enters play” or “when you play this card” abilities, since those can only be activated once. (In the case of “enters play” cards, though, you could always hit it with an Interdimensional Portal or something like that to cause it to reenter play, but if you did that, you’d have to get rid of the Resource.) Regardless, this play is really good and one of my favorite White Resources period. Of all Resources, just beware of the dreaded Resource removal!

*Detective Duds. If Clouded by Anger’s ability loss... ability is a dealbreaker for you but you still want to flex some Resources to gain power, don’t panic! For the same cost, Detective Duds gives a Friend +3 power and the Prepared keyword, which gives you 1 AT when an opponent starts a Faceoff in the Prepared Friend’s area (most likely a Problem). Extra AT is helpful for doubling Ocellus’ power if you’re so inclined (even if I often forgot that ability was there). However, it can also indirectly discourage your opponent from starting Faceoffs if they know you’ll probably use that Prepared AT towards doubling Ocellus, so they may think of other ways to deal with that power. Would I dub it more dangerous than Clouded by Anger? Not necessarily... I’d just still be careful about where you step.

Thanks for reading this installment of Card Shark! I don’t know when the next Shark will be - like I said, the updates will be sporadic once again - but if I can reassure anything, I will say that the next card subject will be a Set 12/New Dawn card! I haven’t decided what it will be yet... you’ll have to come back to see what it is! Until then, Diamond out!

[dennybelrose-blog]

I’m 30 years old and the smell of spring still means one thing: it’s time to start making a hideous picture collage to paste into the lid of my camp trunk. (For those of you who didn’t go to camp, a camp trunk is where you stored all of your belongings for camp).

Photo courtesy of Pinterest

It’s an understatement to say that the summer program my parents found for me in 5th grade—and continued to send me to through high school—was anything less than a religious experience. I loved it there. I loved the friends I made, the awful food we ate, the breathless abandon with which we ran through sloped meadows wearing tutus, Viking helmets and whatever other bedazzled items we could dig out of the shed-sized costume closet. I lived and breathed Camp, yes, with a capital C. I spent the months leading up to summer compulsively checking an online countdown calendar calibrated to the second, and I spent the months following my time at camp in inconsolable tears.

In short, I was a nightmare. My mom would try to get me out of the house to see friends from school and I’d end up on the floor sobbing, “But they don’t understand Camp! The real world isn’t the same!”

Good grief. Mom, if you’re reading this, I’m really sorry about that.

Temper tantrums aside, it would seem my parents found the perfect summer experience for me. All-consuming. Safe. Wacky. An oasis so separate from the stressors and realities of middle and high school that the experience felt singularly affecting. It was also singularly devastating when, after a botched summer working in the kitchen at this particular camp, they didn’t hire me back as a counselor.

Suddenly, in the midst of my first year of college, dealing with anxieties and insecurities so pervasive I essentially stopped eating, I found myself without the only social safety net I’d ever been willing to rely on. More importantly, I found myself without the tools or coping mechanisms I needed in order to build a new net.

This story ultimately has a happy ending—that initial shock kicked off what turned into a full decade of discovery through outdoor education, travel and what I’ve come to think of as a love affair with the very same “real world” that I once felt compelled to dismiss.

Photo by Joel Reid

I still wouldn’t trade the summers I spent at camp even now, but with some distance I also recognize elements I would change if I could offer that experience to my teenage self again. The subject came up among a few of my Outward Bound colleagues the other day, and it turns out they had a lot they wanted to change about summer programs they attended as well, much of which overlapped. Here are a few things we talked about:

Distance

The general consensus here seemed to be further = better. I hesitate to say it’s absolutely a mistake to choose a program close to home, because I recognize the decision often has to do with affordability. The further a program, the more cost prohibitive it can be. However, it’s not just physical distance I’m talking about here. Sure, seeing another part of the country or even the world is valuable, but only insofar as it offers the opportunity to broaden one’s perspective. Two weeks up the road can be just as valuable as two weeks 1,000 miles away as long as the social sphere is something new. My friend and Outward Bound colleague, James, talked about how his summer programs always involved the same people he knew from school—the same relationships, the same cliques, the same disagreements. I felt similarly about mine; sure, the camp drew from different schools across the state, but ultimately we all looked the same: socioeconomically, ethnically and philosophically. There’s a lot to be said for taking the time to seek out a program designed to challenge and broaden a child’s point of view, as opposed to to solidify it.

Entertainment vs. Education

When considering summer programs, I think one of the greatest pitfalls and biggest seductions is to look at programs promising entertainment above all else. I don’t mean to say a summer program should be miserable or that it should sacrifice fun, because fun is important. Fun is powerful. Fun is fun. But it shouldn’t come at the expense of meaningful education.

I’m talking about space camps, science and nature programs, theater and arts retreats, and I’m also talking about programs designed to teach kids the kind of resilience I found myself woefully lacking as soon as I left camp (or, more accurately, as soon as camp left me). Of course we want to give our children a safe place, somewhere they can experience joy and acceptance, which is what my camp gave me, but it came at the expense of my own perspective. I could not apply the joy or confidence I felt at camp to the rest of my life and no one there ever asked me to.

Specialization

The camp I went to had all of the classic activities: horseback riding, archery, a ropes course, crafts, the pool (Colorado’s stand-in for the obligatory camp lake). At the top of the hour—every hour—each cabin of campers would make a pilgrimage from one activity to the next. Chop chop, everyone, set down your lanyards and glitter, pick up a bow and arrow! I never really had the chance, or the obligation, to stick with a particular skill set. Whether I liked a thing or not, it would change over in an hour.

I watch the kind of personal transformations that happen on something like an Outward Bound 22-day backpacking course, and can’t help but think how beneficial it is to get ample time with a certain activity. It allows for a deeper knowledge of skill, yes, but I think it also necessitates a more rigorous accounting for self. There’s not as much room to hide from your peers or yourself when you’re working within specific constraints, especially for an extended period of time.

Photo by Ben Goodman

Gender

I probably would have thrown a prodigious fit if my parents had tried to send me to an all-girls camp. In fact, I did throw a prodigious fit when one well-meaning high school counselor suggested I might do well at a women’s university. Something in me rejected the idea, I think in large part because I was so preoccupied with being able to compete with boys on their own stage. I’ve since thought a lot about that impulse and dedicated many conversations along many miles of trail with friends, colleagues and other outdoor educators to turning over the question of whether single-gender programming is more beneficial than co-ed.

One blurb in one blog will not answer that question, but I can say that for myself, if I could go back, I would not throw any more fits. I would jump at the opportunity to gift my adolescent self the space to explore without the kind of performance or preening that being in front of boys seemed to require of us all. Likewise, I think boys benefit from the same kind of space. I’ve seen incredible outcomes, especially when it comes to outdoor adventure programming like Outward Bound. I’m thinking specifically of a single-gender course that Outward Bound in Colorado ran last summer. I happened to be on airport duty the day the course ended, so I had the chance to spend a few hours with the girls on the drive and in the airport waiting for their flights home. It was incredible. Even in that limited amount of time, I could feel the power of their experience. One student called her mom on the drive and couldn’t keep from gushing, “I did it. I did it. But I never could have finished without all of the other girls.”

This is something that happens on many courses. Students learn how to rely on each other, to raise each other up—but it was particularly noticeable with this course. In the absence of boys, the physicality of the tasks at hand stopped mattering, and every one of those girls left saying how capable they knew themselves to be. I did my best not to start sobbing. Let me tell you, I didn’t do a great job.

Photo by Theo Theobald

Capability, Curiosity, Passion and Strength

Soon the first students of the season will start arriving at the Outward Bound basecamp in Leadville, CO, and I guarantee at least half of them will show up calling Outward Bound “summer camp.” That’s fine, but I hope they realize there’s a reason we call our expeditions courses, and the people on them students. It’s not a vacation; it’s an education. I worked with an Instructor last season who opened his course by telling the story of how Kurt Hahn, Outward Bound’s founder, wanted to train young sailors how to survive in rough seas. This Instructor congratulated his students on choosing to leave their homes—their safe harbors—in order to face the challenge of the open ocean. Then, on the final day of the course, he sat all the students down and told them that in fact Outward Bound was the safe harbor, and they needed to now go forward in their lives, into open water, using the skills they had learned. This is the kind of education I hope every kid receives out of their summer program: the education of capability, curiosity, passion and strength. I hope they discover the knowledge that they possess such qualities no matter the time or place or circumstance.

About the Author

Kate is a logistics coordinator for the Rocky Mountain Program at the Colorado Outward Bound School in Leadville, Colorado. She holds an MFA from the University of Montana and currently splits her time between working in the high country and relaxing in Denver, where she walks her sister’s dog and eats her parents’ food.

The post What to Look for in a Summer Program for Your Child appeared first on Outward Bound.

[noplanwithavan]

WISH YOU WERE HERE

There’s been a touch of holiday season “hiraeth” these last few weeks. Or perhaps that’s disingenuous. It’s not the motherland we miss. We cannot lay claim to that evocative welsh term for longing. Ours is more a background hum - a pang of kinship for the traditions and people of home. Christmas time will do that to you. When the strength of familial bonds tug most keenly. Yet there has been enough to lessen the strain - many friends - old, new and acquired have helped to see us through.

First there was the Osman family whom we met on the Costa Brava at the start of our journey. We’d kept in touch as we knew they would be heading south for the winter, and managed a rendezvous at a campsite outside Caños de Meca. Unlike us they hadn’t gone down the route of wild camping. Their smaller van with a large tent in tow ruled out that option. Instead they’d stuck to campsites - a more expensive, yet undeniably less smelly existence. We spotted their flower-powered van on our approach and followed, whopping, hooting and waving with glee. Despite only having spent a few days together 3 months ago, they felt like long lost friends. Bonded by that peculiar camaraderie which comes from shared experience. The girls picked up with their kids Nancy and Dolly where they left off. Trotting, free-wheeling and carousing around the campsite. All chitter chattering as they shared stories. Rain set in for a few days, but we countered it by hunkering down in the Osman tent. Gossiping and catching up. The adults drinking wine, while the young ones put our distraction to good use. Before we realised what game they were playing, it seemed too late to stop it - dress the parents up in the children’s clothing. Unsurprisingly Elsie got very absorbed in her role as stylist. A particularly fetching ruff was selected for Nancy and Dolly’s dad, Jay, which gave him the air of a Spanish reconquistador. She paused to weigh up the effect of her composition, but seemed unsatisfied. Clearly this was not quite the look she had in mind. Disappearing briefly into the deeper recesses of the tent, Elsie emerged moments later with a triumphal look. Rapidly, layers were added - to the face, and hands. She stepped back quizzically to admire her work, and smiled. The masterpiece was complete. With hands now bound in submission, Mr Osman was transformed - no longer a knight of the Spanish Golden Age. More like a detainee from Guantanamo Bay.

As we parted, Marcus joked we’d have to find more friends in time for Christmas. And in fact, this proved remarkably easy. Rolling our way back down the coast, we made for Tarifa. That wind-sock of a kite-surfing mecca, luring you in with its laid-back charm. We’d heard there was a good free camping community at Playa de los Lances. Surely our best shot at making festive friends. After searching for a few days without success, Marcus suggested trying down one of the many beach-side tracks. One clearly declaimed itself a campervan-free zone, with a hard-to-ignore “No Acampar” sign in large lettering. Venturing on through the umbrella-shaped pines, we broke out onto a runway lined with mobile homes. This was van heaven, curving off into the distance. With a collective gasp, it was clear. We were hit with a serious case of vehicle envy.  It’s hard not to marvel at human inventiveness at such moments. The sheer cornucopia of self-sufficiency in all shapes and sizes. Big wheels, graffiti spray-jobs, even patio doors out the back. All these configurations and compromises tailored to individual need.

We celebrated the girl’s 6th birthday here, foregoing presents for an “experience” instead. After some discussion they settled on a rock climbing lesson over horse riding on the beach. It proved an education all round; the parental art of butting right out. Scaling a 40 foot rock face in nearby Bettis, Elsie baulked at the prospect of letting go to abseil down. Contradicting everything she’d ever been taught, the instructor Chris was now explaining how to let go and lean right back. She was not at all keen to put her untested faith in a rope. Sensing panic, Marcus and I tried to help, bellowing up instructions like, “Move your leg over to the right. No, not that right, the other right.” This didn’t help. We were merely fuelling the flames, a volley of overlapping commands fired at cross purposes. That was until Chris turned to us diplomatically, with the words, “I think it would help if you just let me do the talking.” Enough said. He had her down in a jiffy. From a quivering jelly back to full bravado, all in the space of a few feet. And busting to do it all over again.

During our time in Tarifa we acquired a favourite pitch at our camping spot. That curious desire to lay claim even amongst a free-for-all. If we went for the day we’d leave behind a few possessions - chairs, clothes hung out to dry. And there was good reason. Not wanting to lose our place beside the big blue bus. When we first arrived we noticed it had the tell-tale sign we tend to home in on - a child’s bike mounted on the back. Sure enough, 3 year-old Bonnie soon burst forth, wearing baggy pants and a sweet, diffident smile. Within minutes that immutable call to friendship between children had been uttered and answered. The girls disappeared inside her bus. And that was it. We had neighbours. And what’s more neighbours with extended family. A few days later Hilary and Richard, Bonnie’s Grandma and Grandpa, showed up. Swinging by in style with their vintage VW van. This was, it seems, a grand tour en famille. We stayed put, cooking together and sharing food on Christmas Day, happy to be part of this warm solidarity. Hilary and Richard provided an indulgent treat for the girls - spearheading craft sessions on the beach and trips to pick edible mushrooms. After a week Elsie and Lulu were even calling them Grandma and Grandpa, exchanging christmas cards and involving them in parental confidences. Waving hello one morning Hilary chuckled knowingly as she shared, “You can’t tell children anything can you?” I must have looked puzzled, for she added in a conspiratorial whisper, “Just so as you know…we DO have a toilet.” Blushing furiously I could hear my mind whirring…back to that conversation days ago with the girls. The one that went:

Lulu - “I like their orange van. It has nice curtains. It’s pretty cool isn’t it? Me - “Well yes VWs are good to look at, but frankly they’re not very practical. I mean it’s very small. They probably don’t even have a toilet in there.”

Repeated verbatim to the subject in question…thanks a lot kids.

Social indiscretions aside, we would have loved to stay, but Boxing Day brought with it a new chapter. Friends from the old country - the Bulloughs -  were coming out to see us. The girls were crackling with excitement. I’m not sure which was more of a novelty - welcoming the first pals to have made it out to join us along this journey, or ditching the camper van and living it up in a flat for 12 days. Sadly I fear it may not have been the relaxing holiday Tom, Charlie, Edwyn and Alice envisaged. All 8 of us squeezed into a small apartment, with Elsie and Lulu clearly the more noisy and boisterous half of their merry band. But it was fab. And as a city Cádiz is hard to beat. This is Spain at it’s most Spanish. We were in the heart of the old town. Crammed into a spit of land, with the port on one side, and sweeping beaches the other. Looking out from up high there is a maze of flat roof-tops, intersected at points by over 100 watchtowers. Faded relics from a more prosperous past. Then stepping outside you’re thrown headlong into a warren of wide, criss-crossing streets teeming with life. I had the unshakeable sense that whole lifetimes are lived within just a few yards. The same faces seen day after day within invisible boundary lines - hawking their wares or pacing the plaza. It was truly an enchanting, beguiling place. Having been told from Grandma Ros that Rick Stein had done a programme on Cádiz, Marcus assiduously followed all of Rick’s food recommendations. And we weren’t disappointed, gulping down sherry, seafood and churros. Bizarrely the only time when people didn’t appear to be out and about, drinking and eating at all hours, was New Year’s Eve. We’d read that Spanish people celebrate with their families until midnight, and only come out much later. Having managed to stay awake until 12.30, we reasoned things would surely have begun to heat up by now. The odd bar perhaps cracking open to offer a sliver of comfort. Maybe even the faint strains of “auld lang syne” calling us forth. But no, the whole place was a ghost town, shutters drawn over large silent windows. If we’d kept prowling the pavements till 2am perhaps we’d have seen a party, but tired and despondent it was just easier to go to bed.

But if welcoming in 2017 was a little restrained, our epiphany was soon to come. Christmas Day is no big deal in Spain. The real festivities are geared towards the Magi. The 3 Kings visiting baby Jesus on January 6th. It wasn’t always easy to coax 4 kids around the city. To avoid the many glittering temptations in every doorway. Constantly beset by stops to the playpark or the irresistible giant magnolia trees. Their trunks inviting exploration, with bark the texture of an elephant’s hide. But if we’d tried we wouldn’t have been able to drag them home on the night of January 5th. Despite multiple separate breakdowns, all 4 refused to abandon their place behind the barriers lining Plaza de España. This was the mother of all fiestas. The Magi were on their way. A brass band heralding a cavalcade of flotillas snaking its way towards us, releasing a collective frenzy amongst the crowd. Small Spanish bodies surged forwards, elbowing their way past us, screaming “Acquí, acquí!” as thousands of sweets rained down. We tried to get a look at the girls faces, to see their reactions to this bubble-gum exuberance. But we couldn’t see them - shielded by the youthful melee they were scrabbling desperately all around - on the floor, under the barriers - for whatever pickings they could get. “Did you like that?” we asked later. “That.. was the best night of my life - EVER!” beamed Lulu.

Leaving Cádiz it was tough to say goodbye to the Bulloughs. But we were also hankering to be back on the open road and in the camper van once again. The last few days have been peaceful, sun-filled and happy. Hanging out along the Costa de la Luz - the surf spot El Palmar, Conil, and Vejer de la Frontera. And the hand of friendship has once again played its part. Big thanks to Ivan Black back home for putting us in touch with his great mates Sarah and Camden out in Vejer. Former Londoners who’ve been living in Spain for the last 12 years, we hit it off straight away. We ended up parking in their garden and had a fabulous day sharing great food, company and the delights of a washing machine and shower. Sarah even threw in a yoga lesson. New friends, old friends, friends not just for Christmas. It’s all good, and it’s set us in great stead for our next big leap. Across the water to Africa - Morocco here we come!

[365elephantsoap]

WHEEL OF FORTUNE, A REVERSE FIVE OF RODS, AND THE KNIGHT OF PENTACLES

Ella slumped back into the Adirondack chair and watched the flames leaping up from the large fire pit. She was the only one out and had the patio all to herself. Tucking her feet up under her, she let her shoulders relax and she sighed, looking up at the night sky. It really was beautiful here, even better than the pictures in the brochure. Ella reached down for her metal water bottle and took a swig of the vodka she’d filled the bottle with. She winced and thought she should have filled it half with vodka and half with grapefruit juice. Instead, she’d filled the bottle to the top. Ella shrugged, took another gulp and savored the warmth of the alcohol as it travelled down her throat. The fire continued to crackle and pop. An owl hooted in the distance. Ella took another sip of vodka.

The vodka was contraband. The brochure had strictly prohibited drugs and alcohol of any kind. This was a health and spiritual retreat with a strict vegan meal plan, morning meditation and yoga, and mindful nature walks. When Ella arrived, she had been handed a journal of handmade paper and a rubber band bundle of colored pencils. The woman at check-in, Rain, had handed them to Ella with a smile and said “it’s for writing and sketching your visions.” Ella had taken the journal and mumbled a ‘thank you’ as she gathered her bags to head to her cabin. “You have free time until six. Then we’ll have our opening ceremony with our evening meal. I so hope you enjoy your time here with us.” Rain said, her focus already turning to the next guest in line. Ella had then followed the path that led to her cabin, which looked a little run down. Once inside, Ella threw her bags on the bed that was covered with a calico quilt of blues. She was pleasantly surprised to find the inside did not match the outside. The place was rather nice in a rustic sort of way. It was clean and she had her own private bathroom with a beautiful copper soaking tub. Ella thought this completely met the definition of ‘glamping’. Ella wasn’t much of an unpacker, but she had taken the time to empty out the small bag of groceries she’d brought with her, putting things in the mini-fridge and setting stuff out on the little kitchen counter. Then she had taken a look at the things she had brought, particularly the bottle of vodka and the family size package of Double Stuffed Oreos. She gathered those up and shoved them into the cabinet under the sink before heading out to explore the rest of the camp.

Ella took another drink from her water bottle. She was going to have to pace herself if that bottle was going to last her the week. Her stomach grumbled. Dinner had been lacking in substance and mostly kale. Ella fished an Oreo out from the pocket of her hoodie and was just about to take a bite when she heard the sounds of footsteps. Ella shoved the whole cookie into her mouth just as another camper walked into the light from the fire. “Oh! I didn’t expect anyone else to be out here for some reason. Is it okay if I join you?” The woman asked Ella, whose mouth was still full of cookie. Ella nodded her head while trying to swallow down the chewed up cookie that had by now turned itself into a ball of mush. She took a large drink from her water bottle, forgetting that is did not contain water and nearly choked before managing to squeak out “sure!” Ella noticed that the woman had her own metal water bottle and wondered if it was also filled with contraband like her own. “I’m Diane.” she said as she started to take a seat next to Ella. “Ella. Please to meet you.” Diane leaned back into her chair, opened her water bottle and took a sip of some dark red looking ‘water’. “Cheers!” Diane said as she held out her bottle for a clink. Ella chuckled and raised her water bottle, clinking it against Diane’s bottle. “Cheers!” Diane was wearing a pretty stylish wool poncho. She fished around in the front pocket and pulled out two Snickers bars. “Want one? I don’t know about you, but I’m starving after that bowl of grass clippings they called dinner.” Diane said as she waved one of the candy bars, eyebrows raised. Ella pulled the sleeve of Oreos she’d stashed inside her hoodie pocket. “I’d love one. How about some Oreos?” Diane grinned as she pulled two cookies from the sleeve. “I think we’re going to be friends.” Ella smiled and replied “I think so too.”

The two women sat quietly for a moment and then Diane asked “What made you decide to come to this retreat?” Ella groaned “It’s a long stupid story involving a boy. Or a man child. It was a bad relationship that ended just as badly. I saw the brochure at my corner coffee shop and for some crazy reason thought this was exactly what I needed in that moment. What about you?” Diane took a sip from her bottle. “My last kid has just left for college. Empty nester. That and I found out my husband has been sleeping with his dental hygienist for the last seven years.” Ella winced and said “ouch.” They both took drinks from their water bottles. Ella looked at Diane. She did not look old enough to have a kid in college let alone multiple adult children. Ella handed over the sleeve of cookies and said “I would never have guessed you were old enough to have adult children.” Diane took another cookie. “My husband, soon to be ex, is a very popular dentist. I haven’t had any major plastic surgery, but I usually spend a week at a particular spa every year and I have a personal trainer. Who I should totally start boning.” Ella laughed and agreed “Yes…yes you should.”

The two women were quiet for a bit, both staring at the flames that were beginning to die out. “What do you expect to get out of this week?” Ella asked. Diane made a face and thought for a minute. “You know…I’m really angry at Allen, my husband. I worked a crappy job to help put him through dental school, had his children, gave up my own hopes of furthering my education and having a career of my own because he thought it would be best if I stayed home and took care of the home. I love my children, I really do, but I also wanted something of my own and I’m really angry that I let him take that away from me. I guess, if I get anything out of this week it would be figuring out a way to let all of that anger go.” Ella nodded thoughtfully. “Wow. I’m just hoping to lose ten pounds and have some nap times.” Diane laughed and said “I’m hoping for those things too, but I doubt that’s all you expect from the week.” Ella stared at the glowing embers of what was left of the fire. “That terrible relationship? Well…for a while I let that boy make me believe that I was worthless and lucky to even have him notice me. He made feel small and he crushed every artistic endeavor that I came up with. I was talentless. I was nothing. The stupid thing is that I knew none of that was true, but I let him do it to me anyway. I probably could have let him emotionally abuse me for a really long time, but not the physical abuse. He beat up pretty bad. That’s what it took for me to leave. The leaving part made feel strong and brave for a very sort amount of time, but I’m still afraid. I’m still hanging on to that fear of being talentless and nothing. So…maybe this week will give me some sort of roadmap to bravery.”

Diane raised her water bottle and said “Here’s to a week of angry bravery!” Ella laughed and clinked her water bottle with Diane’s and shouted “Angry Bravery!” They each ate another Oreo and watched as the fire finally died out.

[starlingsrps]

linnet campbell char. dev.

BASIC INFORMATION

FULL NAME: linnet anne campbell (nee montgomery)

REASONING: her mother read it in a book and thought it sounded good. same goes for her siblings too. 

NICKNAME(S): linny

PREFERRED NAME(S): linnet

BIRTH DATE: march 9

AGE: twenty six

ZODIAC: pisces

GENDER: cis female

PRONOUNS: she/her

ROMANTIC ORIENTATION: heteromantic

SEXUAL ORIENTATION: heterosexual

NATIONALITY: american

ETHNICITY: caucasian (fuck if she knows what her heritage is)

CURRENT LOCATION: holly point, ga

LIVING CONDITIONS: cute little house with A Lot of books.

BACKGROUND

BIRTH PLACE: savannah, ga

HOMETOWN: holly point, ga

SOCIAL CLASS: middle

EDUCATION LEVEL: b.a., english

FATHER: bobby montgomery, 49

MOTHER: jenny montgomery, 49

SIBLING(S): annabelle, 23; asher, 19

BIRTH ORDER: oldest

CHILDREN: archie campbell, coolest nine month old ever

PET(S): nah

OTHER IMPORTANT RELATIVES: the usual roundup of cousins and such

PREVIOUS RELATIONSHIPS: a handful here and there, nothing exceptionally notable. 

CURRENT RELATIONSHIP: hella married to stephen campbell. they've been together for five years and married for two of them.

OCCUPATION & INCOME

PRIMARY SOURCE OF INCOME: bookstore owner

CONTENT WITH THEIR JOB (OR LACK THERE OF)?: it's pretty cool. she's taking a year off from full-time to be home with archie and she's starting to wander into the store more and more like HEY WHAT'S UP JUST...CHECKING.

PAST JOB(S): waiting tables at wade's, babysitting

SPENDING HABITS: responsible and budgeted

MOST VALUABLE POSSESSION: oh boy. not people? her wedding set, her photo albums, her books...

SKILLS & ABILITIES

PHYSICAL STRENGTH: oddly better since she started hauling a kid everywhere.

SPEED: reasonable quick and nimble

INTELLIGENCE: A

ACCURACY: not bad

AGILITY: nimble

STAMINA: endless but she clocks out at 830 these days.

TEAMWORK: bossy bossy bossy boots.

TALENTS: good memory, supportive

SHORTCOMINGS: kind of a steamroller

LANGUAGE(S) SPOKEN: english, like two sentences from high school spanish.

DRIVE?: yep

JUMP-STAR A CAR?: sure

CHANGE A FLAT TIRE?: sure

RIDE A BICYCLE?: yes

SWIM?: yes

PLAY AN INSTRUMENT?: a little uke

PLAY CHESS?: nah

BRAID HAIR?: yes

TIE A TIE?: yes

PICK A LOCK?: probably

PHYSICAL APPEARANCE & CHARACTERISTICS

FACE CLAIM: laura dreyfuss

EYE COLOR: hazel

HAIR COLOR: brown

HAIR TYPE/STYLE: long, usually in a top knot.

GLASSES/CONTACTS?: reading glasses

DOMINANT HAND: right

HEIGHT: 5'6

BUILD: average, a little softer than she'd like post-baby.

EXERCISE HABITS: goddamn no.

SKIN TONE: fair

TATTOOS: "half agony, half hope" from persuasion on her left forearm

PIERCINGS: ears

MARKS/SCARS: nothing truly notable

USUAL EXPRESSION: happy

NOTABLE FEATURES: big, BIG laugh.

CLOTHING STYLE: these days it's black leggings and a big shirt (usually her husband's) for easy boob access. she cleans up well from time to time and cannot WAIT for when she's not nursing anymore.

JEWELRY: her wedding band and some kind of charm necklace

ALLERGIES: lactose intolerant and furious about it.

DIET: reasonable

PHYSICAL AILMENTS: not especially

PSYCHOLOGY

ENNEAGRAM TYPE: 7 - the enthusiast

MORAL ALIGNMENT: neutral good

TEMPERAMENT: sanguine

ELEMENT: air

MBTI TYPE: ENTJ - the commander

MENTAL CONDITIONS/DISORDERS: some depression and anxiety post-archie but nothing that she doesn't think she's got a lid on.

SOCIABILITY: outgoing af.

EMOTIONAL STABILITY: reasonable but cries so much about archie 

OBSESSION(S): archie. her instagram is all baby.

PHOBIA(S): she fears nothing except large bodies of water.

ADDICTION(S): nah

DRUG USE: nah

ALCOHOL USE: gin mom

PRONE TO VIOLENCE?: not beyond punching people in the shoulder

MANNERISMS

SPEECH STYLE: too fast

ACCENT: georgia af

QUIRKS: her books are arranged by color.

HOBBIES: reading, child rearing. 

NERVOUS TICKS: rubbing the back of her neck, shifting her body weight around, punching dudes in the shoulder.

DRIVES/MOTIVATIONS: keeping archie alive

POSITIVE TRAITS: confident, strong willed, charismatic, intuitive, bright

NEGATIVE TRAITS: bossy, stubborn, impatient, procrastination

SENSE OF HUMOR: dorky

DO THEY CURSE OFTEN?: oh yeah

FAVORITES

ACTIVITY: reading

ANIMAL: dogs

BEVERAGE: iced coffee

BOOK: don't make her pick one, please. you'll be there all day.

COLOR: red

DESIGNER: [gestures vaguely and wildly]

FOOD: tacos. any taco.

FLOWER: lavender

GEM: ruby

HOLIDAY: any time the store closes

MODE OF TRANSPORTATION: drive but only if she's driving. she is a TERRIBLE passenger.

MOVIE: she's big into sagas - give her a day planted to the couch for harry potter or star wars or lord of the rings and she's a happy camper.

SONG: "dreams" by the cranberries

SCENERY: mountains are pretty rad.

SCENT: archie and books

SPORT: tennis

TELEVISION SHOW: the office. she is down to rewatch the office anytime, anywhere.

WEATHER: fall

VACATION DESTINATION: she likes mountains so she like colorado a lot.

ATTITUDES

GREATEST DREAM: like these days, it's as simple as keeping the store open, keeping archie alive, and maybe having another kid in awhile. 

GREATEST FEAR: drowning, locking archie in a car.

MOST AT EASE WHEN: with stephen once archie is asleep 

LEAST AT EASE WHEN: archie is crying and she can't get him to stop.

WORST POSSIBLE THING THAT COULD HAPPEN: just a wild variety of bad things that could happen to archie.

BIGGEST ACHIEVEMENT: she's kept a baby alive for nine months without losing her shit so?

BIGGEST REGRET: nah.

BIGGEST SECRET: nah.

TOP PRIORITIES: her family, the store, getting jesse a girlfriend.

[stefannewbrand-blog]

Actress Enrolls at Fashion Institute for Winter Quarter

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[itsameheresy-blog]

Worshiping the Unknown God

It was a bright, blazing summer in Southern Idaho, and I had been looking forward to church summer camp for months. At 14, it was going to be one of my few opportunities to spend a significant portion of time (a whole week) with peers entirely away from my parents. It was a week where I hoped to define myself, to figure out who I wanted to be independent of simply being my parents’ son, to make better friends with some of the kids I knew and maybe (just maybe) to flirt a little bit. And also, as the church’s youth pastor assured me, it was going to be a week filled with fun activities, the chance to build closer relationships with friends, and an opportunity to learn about God.

God and I had an interesting relationship at 14. While I was familiar with the basic concept of God (a being more powerful than all the rest of the universe combined, who set the whole of existence as we understand it into motion) and even passionate in my attempts to conform with what I thought God wanted (which I’ll freely admit often amounted to me assuming God wanted what my parents wanted), I think it might be fair to say that God and I didn’t know each other very well, if at all. I had a sense of God, but not of God’s implications, nor of the reverence for Scripture and its historical context those implications would eventually foster in me, nor of the impact that reverence would eventually have on my personal beliefs. My early teens were a time when I was taking my first steps to trying to figure out the details of what relationship (if any) I might form with the Divine (if any). Because of this, the opportunity to learn about God (or, at least, to hear someone else’s educated opinion on God) was not only something I welcomed, but I actively looked forward to. 

The church camp was organized (as most summer camps are) with morning and afternoon “breakout sessions” which the campers signed up for in advance. These sessions, often with limited space, ensured that everyone had an opportunity to participate in the various outdoor activities, as well as a limited ability to control their spiritual experience at camp. “Want to learn about the basics of Christianity?” a signup sheet would ask, “sign up for Jesus 101.” Or “Worship Morning” a signup would proclaim, with lines beneath it for those who wanted to spend a while singing worship songs or hymns and then have the rest of their mornings off. I remember being excited by the opportunity to select which spiritual activities I wanted to be a part of, and signing up liberally for breakout sessions that seemed to promise the most information and opportunity to ask questions.

So imagine my surprise, one morning towards the end of the week, when the morning sign-up sheets were all missing. Instead, during breakfast, one of the camp leaders got up to make a solemn announcement:

“Today we’re going to have a special breakout session. It’s probably the most important session we’ll have at this camp. All of the girls will be going to one version of this session, led by the female leaders, and all of the boys to another, led by the guys. It is very important that you attend this session.”

I was puzzled, but after breakfast I followed the shuffling group of teenage boys (most older than me, a few younger) down the path to an auditorium, where the male leaders were all smiling beneath a projector screen. “Welcome, guys, welcome!” One of the leaders called cheerily as everyone was finding their seats. “Today’s breakout session is called ‘The Devil’s Damnation of Damsels.’” The title appeared on the screen behind him, in dark somber text on a red background. Beside it, a cartoon woman with a midriff-baring croptop, a low skirt, and high heels flashed a banal smile out at us. “This is one of the most important issues confronting young men today,” the leader said, “so we all wanted to talk to you about it.”

The conversation that morning ranged broadly, from a discourse on the evils of masturbation (“Jesus said that if you look at a young woman and think sexual thoughts about her, in your heart it’s just like you had sex with her! Therefore masturbation is fornication!”), to the wickedness of pornography (”The only woman God ever wants you to see naked will be whichever woman you end up married to, He made them look good naked so that you’ll want to marry them!”), to an enlightened and brief elucidation on LGBT persons (”Romans 1 says it’s unnatural, so don’t fall into that trap!”). But the most salient point of the conversation, and the one I want to talk about here, was the one that coincided with the name of the breakout session itself. The Devil’s Damnation, we were told, of Damsels.

“There are girls out there,” we were told, “who will dress improperly to try to arouse lust in you.” “They know exactly what they’re doing,” the leaders assured us, “and yet at the same time they don’t know how powerful the feelings they’re trying to arouse can be, or how far they can take you.” Girls like that, the leaders assured us, could be Christian or non-Christian, but we would know them by the way they would try to entice us with their bodies. “They’re traps from Satan,” we were grimly warned, the Devil himself looking for a way to damn us with the budding adolescence of our peers. “And as you get to be your age,” the leaders assured us, “You need to watch out for these girls. Avoid temptation. Don’t associate with them.” We mustn’t also be afraid, we were assured, to correct our sisters in Christ if they made us uncomfortable with how they were dressed. “Good girls know that they shouldn’t cause a brother to stumble,” we were assured. “When you think about courting a girl, look for one who dresses modestly and who knows not to arouse temptation. Those are the girls God has in mind for you.” At the close of the session, these leaders led us in prayer, and prayed that all of us individually would be able to avoid the temptation of sinful women the Devil had put in front of us. Remember, they told us, “God is male, and He sent Christ as a man. He had all the same urges and feelings you do. He knows what you’re going through.”

I left the session too confused to be angry, and too heartsick to fully grapple with the full implications of what had been said. Several of my peers seemed to have their own misgivings about what had just happened, their own questions, but a multitude more seemed to have bought the spiel wholeheartedly, so none of the rest of us raised our concerns. I don’t know what was said to the girls during their breakout session, but I do remember when the genders desegregated for lunch many of the boys were as boisterous and playful as ever, and several of my female friends looked guarded, upset, and ashamed. Later that week a girl would apologize to me for an outfit she’d worn earlier that week, adding in an extra apology for if anything she’d said and done had “led me to stumble.” I assured her that the outfit was fine and that she was fine, but to my enduring shame, I was too young and inarticulate to be able to tell her anything else.

I write this, in part, to address that moment, and to say some part now of what should have been said then. I also write to address many others.

Let’s fast forward to another moment. I am around 15 years old, and I am listening to a young man talk to a youth group about why he wants to become a missionary to “unreached people groups.” (For the uninitiated into U.S. Evangelicism, “unreached people groups” is slang in the church for any group that has not been successfully proselytized to by Christian missionaries). For this young man, he assures us, becoming a missionary has nothing to do with receiving a scholarshiped education at a somewhat prestigious Christian institution or advancing his social credentials before the body of Christ. It has everything to do, he assures us very solemnly, with rescuing souls from Hell.

“Because the Bible makes clear,” he says, his voice taking on a tone of practiced authority that he has already honed over a lifetime of scrupulous piety, “that 'all have sinned,’ and that without Christ ‘the wages of sin is death’  and ‘no one comes to God but through Jesus.’ And it also makes clear, in Romans 1, that even if they’ve never heard of Jesus ‘man is without excuse.’ So therefore, people who live and die having never heard the Gospel go to Hell... and so it is our responsibility to reach and save all of them.” He’s was passionate about this, clearly proud of himself and his decision. Missionaries, I had been told over and over, were the ultimate in closeness to God, maybe even closer than pastors and certainly closer than the common Christian who lived and worked in America doing some non-spiritual, non-Godly work. Because of that, it was with no small amount of hesitance that I raised my hand and interrupted the man mid-speech. “Wouldn’t some people disagree with that?” I asked. “C.S. Lewis, for example?” I was met with disapproving stares from some of the people around me, but not, I note, from the young missionary. He was giving me a knowing, smug smile, eyes bright, clearly looking forward to my question. Here, his look seemed to say, is someone who is going to give me an opportunity to show off how Biblically versed I am. Warily, I pressed on: “After all, in ‘The Last Battle’ and in some of his essays, C.S. Lewis argued that if someone tried in their heart to do what they knew was right, even if they thought they did it serving an evil god or a false religion, God would count the service they meant to someone else as service to Him. So if someone who hasn’t heard about Jesus still really believed in an authority beyond themselves and tried to do the right thing, isn’t it possible that person would go to Heaven when they died?” “I realize it feels better to think that,” the young missionary said soothingly, “but the Bible is very clear. ‘No one comes to God but through Jesus’ and ‘man is without excuse.’ So as harsh as it sounds, those who’ve never heard about and then accepted Jesus go to Hell. Now-” he said, but this time I interrupted him. “Man is without excuse for going to Hell.” I said, Bible already open to Romans and reading the passage. “It says here that creation clearly proclaims the glory of God, so that man is without excuse for failing to listen to what Creation is telling him. It doesn’t say everyone who lives their whole lives never hearing about Christ goes to Hell. And,” I said, cutting off whatever he was going to say next, “saying no one comes to the Father but through Jesus doesn’t necessarily mean you need to hear about Jesus for that to happen. It could mean that if you come to God, whether you know it or not, you’ve done that through Jesus.”

“I understand where you’re coming from,” the young missionary assured me, “but you’re just wrong. The Bible is clear that people who don’t accept Jesus go to Hell when they die. And, now is not the time or place for us to have the discussion that would bring you back on track. Please let me finish my presentation.” So I let him finish, and I didn’t bring it up again. And in the future when people told me that there was a dire need for “American Christians” to go to foreign nations, that the local Christians were so much less educated or prepared to follow God and that as a nation especially beloved and blessed by God it was up to the United States to educate pastors we could send to plant and lead foreign churches, I didn’t argue with that either. I wasn’t entirely convinced the young missionary was right, but it seemed clear that if he was, trusting the work of spreading the Gospel to anyone BUT the most well-funded and educated Evangelicals the U.S. could muster might be tantamount to condemning some poor benighted foreigner to Hell. I didn’t want that on my conscience. Another memory, on that same subject: I am 17, watching a (more or less self-appointed) youth leader jab a finger at pictures of Muslims up on a presentation screen. “I want all of you to remember,” she shouts, cheeks blotched red with fury, “these people are your enemies. Enemy!” she shouts, pointing at a veiled woman kneeling (perhaps in preparation for prayer). “Enemy!” she repeats, pointing at a generic man with a long beard. “Enemy,” directed this time at a child walking along a street. “You can look it up online, they rape babies! They sponsor terrorism! They worship Satan! They are your enemies! You can pray for their souls but always remember what they are.” This time, when I didn’t speak up, it was because I was fairly certain that no one else in the room was actually taking her seriously, and I didn’t see the value in being shouted down.

A third, and final, memory before I get to my point. I am 20, in a church group meant to cater to college students, and the pastor has spent forty minutes building up to a single point.

“God’s plans,” he assures us, “never involve violence.” Never, we’re told, in any form. God’s plans don’t involve violence between nations. They don’t involve violence amongst smaller groups. They don’t involve violence interpersonally. They don’t even, he proclaims, involve violence in defense of others or self-defense. “The Bible says those who live by the sword will die by the sword,” the pastor assures all of us together. “So God doesn’t bless people who do violence, and His plans never involve violence of any kind. There are a lot of people these days who will try to argue that some kind of violence is justified, but it never is. God never blesses it.”

I remember feeling wounded by this assertion... my brothers are soldiers, my father was a police officer, and everyone in my family has, at some point or other, used violence in defense of ourselves or others. And while I find violence to be ugly, unpleasant, often spiritually and mentally wounding, and frequently in need of healing from and coping with, I never felt especially compelled to conclude that all violence was per se sin.

I took these concerns to the pastor, but he doubled down on his position. “If you live by the sword, you die by the sword.” He said, “the Bible is clear. People whose occupation involves violence should find another occupation, because God’s plans never involve violence.” And then, in response to my noting that I’d used violence defending myself, he went further: “I wonder what would have happened in those situations if you’d done nothing and just prayed instead. If you’d had the faith to do that, who knows what God might have done through you?” I didn’t know how to respond to that, so I left the conversation. And for a while, I thought I must be some kind of monster, because try though I might I couldn’t see anything wrong in the violence I’d occasionally employed.

As a converse to that, a different memory: leader after leader after leader assuring me that, whatever problems the United States had, we were still the “great shining hope” for the world. To oppose the United States’ wars, they assured me, is to oppose the United States itself, and to oppose that is to oppose the nation that God specifically set aside and blessed for the purpose of making the world better. “Patriotism is a Godly virtue,” I was assured over and over again. “God has a plan to do good for our country. People who don’t like this country just aren’t appreciating the blessing God has given them enough.” Opposition to “just war,” they argued, was a sin unto itself.

Plenty of ink has been spilled, by writers far more qualified than me, about the misogynistic streak running through the heart of modern American Evangelicalism. The heretical notion that it’s a woman’s responsibility to prevent men from lusting over her body has been dissected, thoroughly and emphatically, in other works. Similarly, plenty of essays are already out there examining American Evangelicalism’s problematic relationship with other races and cultures, and chipping away at the grounds for its insistence that predominantly white U.S. educated missionaries and pastors are better for foreign churches than directly supporting their own religious leaders would be. Similarly, the Bible’s support for both violence and nonviolence has been discussed, at length, by theologians dating back at least sixteen centuries. I’m not here to refight those battles, the theology of my betters speaks for itself.

Instead, I’m writing to call attention to a problem that I think was central to all of the experiences I described above, a problem that I think has become endemic as American Evangelical Christianity has progressed. The problem, put simply, is that many Christians who profess to love God, don’t actually seem to know very much about Her. Or rather, they know some things, but what they know about God represents a carefully edited and incomplete picture, drawn by pastors and higher church leaders from some Biblical texts that are emphasized to the exclusion of others and then repeated to the average Christians ad nauseum by leaders on every rung of the ladder from there. The end result appears to be that by emphasizing some elements of God, American Evangelicals have excised others. In fact, I’d go so far to as to argue that, over time, we have proceeded so far down the path that the portions of the Biblical God we chose not to emphasize have gradually been forgotten,  and that those portions are now known only to those who tried hard to discover them, worshiped only by those few distrusting enough of their leaders to sit down with their Bibles and really search for those portions of God’s character which we for whatever reason have chosen not to acknowledge. A more complete, more Biblical, but very much unknown God.

We stopped knowing, for one thing, that God is female. Or at the very least, that God is absolutely as female as God is male. Or, to put it completely accurately for the sake of the Christians that are now upset with me, that God transcends all gender entirely, being neither male nor female nor any created thing (see Deuteronomy 4:15-20, warning the Israelites not to corrupt themselves by forming an image of God “in the form of any figure, in the likeness of male or female), although I will note that the same Christians who just got uncomfortable and reflexively thought of that verse never get uncomfortable and bring up this particular concept the dozens of times per church service they hear male pronouns used for God . . . so maybe technical correctness to the nature of God isn’t their real sticking point, y’think? 

But God is as comfortable referring to Godself as female, identifying with femininity and proclaiming womankind to be made in God’s image and likeness, as God is identfying Godself as male. Take Isaiah, for example, when God says She is “like a woman in childbirth, who cries out, gasping and panting.” [Isaiah 42:14]. Or take Job, where God (in the midst of boasting about all of the things She has created) asks Job “From whose womb comes the ice? Who gave birth to the frost from the Heavens?” [Job 38:29]. Or take Deuteronomy, when God admonishes Israel not to be “unmindful” of the “Rock that bore” them or “forgetful” of the “God who gave [them] birth.”  Or take the various times when God describes Herself as embodying the notion of “racham,” a word for compassion which most literally translates to “womblike” and which contemporary Hebrew culture appears to have identified as a feminine, not masculine, trait. [too many to cite, but Psalm 25:6 is a good example]. Or hell, take the teachings of Jesus, which state that God, in Her love for sinners, is analogous to a woman who lost a valuable coin and overturned her entire house desperately searching for it, rejoicing when She finally found it. [Luke 15:8-10]. The same set of Christ’s parables that gave us God as a Good Shepherd (a much-loved representation of His nature that modern believers love to repeat in everything from our worship music to our sappy paintings) also gave us God as the woman who diligently looks for you as if you were Her salvation and source of security, and not the other way around. 

Indeed, God’s comfort with the notion that we would see Her as the perfection of everything both genders should aspire to, as the perfect Being in whose image BOTH MEN AND WOMEN WERE CREATED, and describe Her in feminine terms from time to time is an undeniable Biblical fact. And yet, we see very few references to Her in contemporary Evangelical culture. The construction of God that demands the least change in our thinking and the least disruption to our status quo, God as male and by extension men as inherently nearer to the thought processes and role of God, has been embraced. The rest of Her has been by turns marginalized, forgotten, and eventually almost completely unknown.

Similarly, we have stopped knowing that the Biblical God is perfectly capable of making Herself equally known to everyone, from every culture, and is not especially enthralled with or inclined to bless any one nation (except arguably Israel) over the others. She is not an American God, dependent on American spiritual leaders, to bring an American faith to poor benighted heathens in foreign climes. She is, in fact, fully capable of revealing Herself to non-Americans through any means she desires, and of blessing those who have no formal education or connection to Evangelicism to be worthy leaders of their churches. The Biblical God is a God for “every tribe, every tongue, every nation”  [Revelation 7:9] and each and every one of Her children is endowed with the same array of talents and gifts [so many passages to choose from, let’s go with Romans 12] such that where two or more of them are gathered, the church is as vibrant as it is in any other place. [Matthew 18:20]. And while the Bible does not clarify specifically what mechanism causes salvation (only that the saved come to God “through Christ”), it gives plenty of reasons to believe that Heaven is more inclusive than exclusive to those who genuinely practice mercy, humility, and justice. [See, e.g., Jesus’ parable of the sheep and the goats repeated in several Gospels]. The Bible is clear that God does not endorse the United States of America, but rather invites people of every tribe, tongue, and nation to serve Her Kingdom instead. And yet, we see very few references (beyond lipservice in our worship songs) to that notion in contemporary Evangelical culture. The construction of God that demands the least change in our thinking and the least disruption of our status quo has again been embraced, and the rest of Her has been by turns marginalized, forgotten, and eventually almost completely unknown.

Similarly again, we have stopped knowing that the Biblical God is both very comfortable opposing war (She is, after all, the God of love and of peace, who promises that in Her ideal world all swords will be beaten into plowshares and man will no longer practice or learn warfare [Isaiah 9 & 11]) and very comfortable equipping Her followers to wage it. [All of Joshua springs to mind, but see also Psalm 144:1 “blessed be the Lord, my rock, who trains my hands for war, my fingers for battle.”] “The wrath of man” may very well not “accomplish the righteousness of God,” [James 1:20] but as the entirety of the Bible and a good chunk of human experience can attest, violence and wrath are not synonymous... and the violence of man explicitly accomplished the righteousness of God hundreds of times in the Scriptures [See the OT, Paul’s discourse on proper government in Romans 13, the book of Revelation] (just as, hundreds of other times, man’s decision not to be violent accomplished Her righteousness as well) [See the OT, Christ’s sacrifice and the subsequent martyrdom of the saints, the book of Revelation]. God’s comfort both with violence and with pacifism, both with war and with opposing war, is clearly evident throughout the Scriptures. And yet, to suit particular political sentiments or serve nationalistic notions, various spiritual leaders have tried to form a construction of God that is less ambiguous, less situational, less dependent on case-by-case reasoning, and categorically on one side or another rather than occupying a broad middle ground. Once again, we have made an idol of the portions of God which support our status quo and. whether accidentally or intentionally, we have discarded the rest.

I could go on and on naming aspects of God that are unknown modernly. God as the transcendent force that is over, within, and through all things. [Ephesians 4:6]. God as the patron and source of artistic talent and expression [Exodus 31]. God as the personal, terrible taker of lives [Exodus 12:23, see also Acts]. So on and so forth... but I think I’ve made my point. There is a God that is worshiped by  modern American Evangelicalism, but He does not hold a candle to the unknown God that would be worshiped if we (the Christians) would stop minimizing or emphasizing aspects of Her nature and began to take the Bible at face value when it proclaims Her nature to us.

And this, I believe, gets to the heart of why allowing ourselves to stop knowing the full range of the Biblical God’s nature has done us a disservice: because the unknown God is still God, worship of any God deprived of Her qualities must by definition yield flawed theology. And I can’t help but wonder, how would our faith change if we made a conscious effort to seek out, acknowledge, and then begin to worship the less emphasized aspects of the Biblical God?

I especially wonder: how would my childhood have changed if the believers around me had been cognizant of the feminine God? Would they have been comfortable telling an auditorium full of boys to safeguard themselves, because while She certainly knew on some level how Her body would make us feel, She foolishly really didn’t know the full impact Her body may have on us? Would they have told us She’s a trap from the Devil unless she proceeds modestly and manages to arouse no lustful feelings towards Her from any men in her vicinity? Would they have told us that Her body, especially naked, was created specifically for OUR pleasure, so that we would be enticed into marrying Her?  Which of them would have felt comfortable walking up, tapping Her on the shoulder, and telling the eternal Creator of the universe that Her body was insufficiently covered for them to restrain themselves from thinking lustfully about it, and She should really consider changing into something less form-fitting that would maybe cover Her shoulders better or else she would “lead a brother to stumble”?   Would they have privately reassured and publicly welcomed a young man who sinned sexually against Her? Would they have treated Her flesh as a source of sinfulness, sensuality, and shame? Would She have apologized to me for wearing a mint green top that showed a little bit of belly-button with normal blue jeans, and then added a generic apology in case anything else She did led me to stumble? Or if the believers around me had remembered that God is over and through and in all, that She is the God who calls worshipers from every tongue, tribe, and nation, that She can make Herself known to whomever She pleases and pours out Her gifts on all Her children... would they have so emphatically emphasized that the world needs U.S. missionaries over and above funding and support for the local Christians who may grow the church themselves?

Or if the believers around me had paid due diligence to the full complexity of God’s views on violence, would they have variously assured me either that She never supports a single Christian who takes violent actions or that she’s all in for the War in Iraq and any other war we choose to get in no question about it let’s just launch a nuke (oh yeah, I forgot to mention, one Christian leader told me he thought the best thing for us to do would be go ahead and pre-emptively nuke Saudi Arabia and Iran. So that happened).

In short, if the believers around me had been more cognizant of the unknown God lurking behind the God they wanted to worship, would they have provided me a firmer foundation for my faith, complete with far fewer blasphemies and heresies I’d be forced to find and weed out in myself later in life? And I worry that, even beyond my own struggles, forgetting or minimizing certain aspects of God has done us another disservice because I also cannot help but wonder how many of my brothers and sisters, longing to be close to God the way others proclaim to be, are faced with an image of God that’s been watered down too far for them to engage. I wonder how many potential brothers and sisters, exploring Christianity for the first time, are put off by the incomplete, inadequate, male, American, morally myopic God we present to them, and find themselves demoralized and walking away. I wonder if there are lives damaged, souls marred, spiritual walks spent in unfulfilling and unproductive drudgery, and potentially fantastic Christians driven away from faith, because they are starving in the absence of the un-preached, un-proselytized, un-worshiped Unknown God.

And so, in closing, I’d like to make a pronouncement of faith, for anyone who needs to hear it. For anyone who, like me, wonders if God may be bigger than the construct American Evangelicalism has presented, and for anyone who, like many of my friends, felt attacked or aggrieved by that construct and found themselves walking away: The Unknown God is out there. She works in the world - the Being that is over and in and through everything that exists, that has existed, or that will ever exist. And She loves us, both men and women, whom She created in Her image. And She understands the complexity of morality (She would have to, She made it) and the darkness in systemic oppression and the ugliness spread by the very church that professes to follow Her. She is the Light that causes that darkness to tremble. She is the one who can, if she needs to, make male and female hands alike trained for war. She is the Christian God, and She will be whether we choose to acknowledge her or not, whether we choose to respect her or not, whether we choose to represent Her or not. And She does not want simply to be worshiped as a God of Things We Are Comfortable With, or the God of This Is How It’s Been Done for Hundreds of Years, or the God of the United States is the Greatest Nation Ever to Exist. Beyond that, as the Apostle Paul once said, She is Biblically the God over “every domain or dominion that is named,” whether we acknowledge it or not.  She is the God over Death. The war God and the peace God and the God of telling when each is warranted. The God of both solemn, sacred toil and of roaring hedonistic pleasure. The sex God. The art God. The “things you wouldn’t be comfortable bringing up with your in-laws when meeting them for the first time” God. The God of the beautiful intricacies of wild, savage nature and the God of the profound, utter simplicity of humanity’s very souls. “Every domain” means every domain. She is God - to be acknowledged as God - in, and through, and above all.

The Unknown God is out there, standing whole and authentic, in defiance of the image of God we’ve cobbled together by clipping out parts of the Bible that don’t perturb us and leaving the rest behind. She invites us to know Her. And knowing Her, She invites us to examine the way our previous incomplete picture of Her may have affected our worldview, our treatment of others, and our love for not only our fellow Christian but also our fellow human race. She invites us to worship, and to make amends, and to follow Her in every aspect, even when that isn’t the comfortable thing to do. And in return, She promises to make Herself known to us, to love us, to be with us, no matter where we are in our lives and no matter how much or how little life we have left to live.

...if ever there was a God worthy of knowing, I’d say that is it. Brothers and sisters, how about you?

[americanfrolic]

Photo by Mallory Culbert

   I was fortunate enough to meet Travis, Lauren and their road captain George back in the early spring of 2014. They had set up shop at my work and I was immediately drawn to their vintage camper and all the amazing artwork,vintage,makers and designers they had packed into that beautiful Airstream. I was able to have a quick conversation with both Travis and Lauren and I picked their brain a little bit just about life on the road and how they make things work while living on the road for the past few years. It was kinda crap weather in Chicago while they were here so they didn't get to stay open as much as they wanted and they left a day or two after we spoke, I figured that was probably the last time I would see them or we might cross paths somewhere down the line.  

      At this point and time, Stef and I had been talking about leaving Chicago and finding a home in another state. Southern California was an option, Long Beach to be exact, and we were actually both kind of excited about it. As the summer pushed on and we thought more and more about it we came up with the grand idea to take a road trip to figure out exactly where we wanted to live and that ended up snowballing into finding a camper trailer that we could live in, travel, and search for dream destination to live. A few months after I had met Small Room Collective we had found the Frolic and we couldn't be more excited to get in and get to work on it!

   A few short days after we got our camper I heard news that Travis, Lauren, and George were back in town and posted up at our sister restaurant a few miles away. I think I was supposed to meet up with Stef when I had gotten off work that day but I completely spaced it do to the fact I was filled with complete joy that Small Room Collective was back in town. I had to see them and tell them our master plan, I had to ask them a million stupid questions on how they make it work, I had to know exactly what Stef and I were getting ourselves into first hand from people that have been doing this for two years now!!!  I probably rode my bike way faster than I should have over there and might have made a complete fool of myself acting like a little school girl but they were both very sweet and were genuinely excited for Stef and I once I told them our plan. I remember texting Stef that she had to come over and meet them if it was the last thing she did, she now understood why I wasn't answering my phone and really wasn't that mad at me. After a few beers on the patio Stef arrived and the 4 of us sat there and talked for some time,it was amazing just hearing their stories and all the valuable information they have collected after being on the road for so long. It was getting late so we decided that we were going to take off and before we left Travis and I exchanged numbers, I don't think he intended for me to use that number as much as I have with my million questions I've asked over the past 9 months but Stef and I very grateful for all their help and support over these last few months. Travis and I now talk every few days now that we are about 1 month away from being in the camper and we have made some good plans to meet up this July and do a little bit of traveling together on the east coast. We are very fortunate to call Travis, Lauren and George our friends with only have actually hung out twice in our lives, haha. But that's what is so special about this whole community of full-time travelers,rvers,weekend warriors or whatever you want to call us. Every person we have met (or have never actually met in person) has been more than supportive  and some of the sweetest humans I have ever come in contact with.

   Here's a quick interview Stef came up with for Travis and Lauren, just a couple questions that racked our brains leading up to our departure and that we found might be helpful to our readers. So thank you guys very much for taking the time out of your very busy schedule to answer  our questions and we look forward to seeing you very soon!

What is your background or education?

Travis:

Grew up in Georgia, became an orphan at 16. He went on to study product design at Georgia Tech, enrolling his final year of high school. After working in various roles launching medical & consumer products, as well as exhibits, , he moved to Los Angeles and obtained an MA in Theology and the Arts. He then worked a short stint in the IT world in Los Angeles, meeting Lauren and then moving to Mobile, AL. Then we got hitched and after living 2 years in Austin doing Design, we left and to travel. He built out the trailer in a couple weeks and continues to be our logistical captain.

Lauren:

Grew up in Texas and was a tomboy who liked the color pink. Her favorite babysitters were old women who lived on her block named Rosemary and Sue Ellen, plus Madeline who did not live on her block. You could commonly find her on a rope swing over a creek, with her basset hound Henrietta, running out in some field, or dressed up in a costume. She left Texas to study creative writing in California and then decided that she would go to nursing school in Alabama. She now is a travel nurse part of the year, does some freelance and personal writing, and co-runs Small Room Collective. She is a hair-brained-scheme type of person that likes to break it down on the dance floor and loves a good adventure.

George:

Found on the streets of Pflugerville, TX (just north of Austin), George came in our lives like a lightning bolt upon finding him at Town Lake Animal Shelter (now Austin Pets Alive). He loves deeply and sleeps even more so, but he's a hard working shop dog that loves every bit of attention he receives.

What inspires your work?

We're always looking for the transcendent or grandiose in the miniscule. Knowing that the smallest of things have value, and we hope to connect and promote that. The opportunity to constantly discover. So many gems out there

George, Travis and Laurens 10 1/2 lab hound mix co-pilot.

What does your camper look like?

Its like a large shiny piece of aluminum with wheels. A chrome exhaust pipe with wheels! :)

What do you pull it with?

Sprinter Van 2500 - 144" wheelbase.

How do you guys get your mail?

Mail has been tricky for us. Lots of difficulty, especially with tolls and those kinds of things. Lauren's mom sends it to us in bulk a few times a year.

Do you belong to any camper or RV organizations?

We're only official members of Harvest Hosts. However we've found such a community of travelers out there. We're not organized, but if we had to pick a leader I think Dan of @malimishairstream is the mayor.

Whats your favorite place to camp?

Coastal, desert and any where free, including friends' driveways, farms, wineries, etc. Getting off the beaten path and boondocking in the middle of nowhere is awesome. But because we find ourselves in urban areas a lot for setting up the shop/gallery, we love being in the middle of metropoli with Bob (the trailer) and George anywhere we can fit (without people complaining).

How do you make a living?

Through our Small Room Collective Road Emporium which is a mobile Shop/Gallery+ our other pursuits. Lauren writes,Travis does design work of all kinds. Lauren also works as a RN on a contract, typically in the winter.

Lauren, or what i tell Travis he should call her, "The Boss"

What do you use for Wifi, phone, insurance?

We have a hotstpot with Verizon. We have 2 phones on that plan as well.  Insurance we have an agreed upon value with Nationwide for the Airstream.  The Healthcare exchanges, despite our hopes,was a bust. It has been a mess and we opt not to participate anymore.

How long have you been doing this?

With the trailer, we are just starting our 3rd year. We've been traveling for 4.5 years.

Describe the hardest day you have had on the road.

Hmmm. Boy, we've had some tough ones for sure.... trying to get into NYC became a 5 hour ordeal due to having propane tanks on the trailer and not being able to cross certain tunnels and bridges only on the top level--instead of a 30 minute ordeal which is what Google maps indicated;when George got bitten by several ticks and got really sick last summer, and we had to coordinate vet appointments with moving from city to city; being on the toad and learning that we've lost people we love. Lots of hard moments, but that happens in life. Luckily we are adaptable and somehow figure out how to keep the wheels spinning.

Describe the most rewarding day you have had on the road

Everyday we meet cool people, and we know its an especially good day when going to sleep we feelit and know, "this is why we do this".

Who travels with you?

Just us, our 10.5 year old lab hound mix George & around 70 makers + shakers (via their good and art work).

Travis,Lauren,George and there 1963 Airstream.

  You can visit thier website at www.smallroomcollective.com or give them a follow on Twitter and Instagram @smallroomcollective. Also Travis has an amazing company out of the camper he calls his "Mobile Motorcycle Exploratorium" called Hardy Bros Moto. Check them out atwww.hardybrosmotoworks.com and Instagram @hardybrosmotoworks and Twitter @hardybrosmoto

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How To Camp The Right Way

Camping is a great way to bond with those that you care about in an enjoyable way. It is an activity that everyone should try at least once in their lives. However, camping does require know-how and preparation. Check out the insights in this article to prepare you for a great camping trip. Anytime you buy a tent, be sure to practice setting it up and taking it down in your backyard prior to actually camping. You can be sure there are no missing pieces and learn ahead of time the correct way to set your tent up. You don't want to waste time at your destination, so this will make you well prepared. Bring a survival kit that you can carry on your person at all times. You need to pack a flare gun, utility knife, matches and a first aid kit. You need this if you become lost or stranded; the items in your kit may save your life. Keep your kit with you at all times; don't leave it at the campsite. Never forget to see what the weather will be like in the area you will be camping at, prior to leaving. There are a number of sites that can provide detailed information regarding what to expect weather-wise during your trip. Having a good idea of what the weather will be like will ensure that you pack accordingly for your trip. See if you can integrate swimming into your camping trip. Camping can make you miss your shower. The cool water at a beach or pool will help you feel clean and refreshed. Take a luxury item with you when camping. It can be something as simple as your favorite pillow or coffee creamer. Small things like this can increase your enjoyment of the trip. Always have all your gear prepared before the trip. Forgetting something important, such as a sleeping bag, is a terrible feeling. Therefore, double check everything before you leave home. Remember to bring along wilderness-friendly activities. Playing cards, board games and fishing poles can make for lots of fun. If you brought kids along, you might want to pack a lot of things for entertainment. If the area you are camping in is known for dangerous wildlife, you will need to be doubly careful with food storage. You will need to keep your food in airtight containers or securely wrapped, and store it away from your tent. Some foods should be avoided entirely. This will reduce the likelihood of experiencing an attack. A wonderful tip for camping is to take extra utility knives. The versatility of a utility knife makes it priceless when you are out camping. Bring one to slip into your pocket and throw a backup knife into your bag. You never know when your utility knife will come in handy! Pack carefully and efficiently. List all of the supplies that you need so that you are not missing anything while on the trip. This is very important if you're going to a far away place that doesn't have first aid supplies or thing you'll need when an emergency arises. Know how to use a compass and map before you head into the woods. Even if you are familiar with your intended campsite, you could still get lost because many areas look the same. Your skill using a compass and a map can be a lifesaver one day. Make sure to seal the seams in your tent when you are setting it up. You can purchase sealant at shops that sell sporting goods, but some tents come with a tube. This can keep rainwater, insects and animals from invading your tent. Food poisoning afflicts many campers annually, since they don't pack their food right. Foods should be properly vacuum-packed, canned and sealed. Bring a lot of ice, and don't forget to drain your cooler. Bring toilet paper along when you travel. If you are going camping in a place that has no toilets, it will be necessary for you to use the bathroom outside. To keep from having to use potentially dangerous leaves, you need to have toilet paper on hand. Select a sleeping bag that works with the temperature and season. For example, in the summertime, a lighter bag will keep you cool. However, if it is winter, a thicker sleeping bag will be needed so you won't freeze during the night. Make sure that your camping trip schedule is full of fun activities. Campfires and making smores aren't all there is to do when you're going camping. Try to be creative and do some activities that every family member can have fun with. Take older and younger kids into consideration when thinking of something to do. If you are thinking of taking a camping trip, first make sure that you will like it. Pitch a tent in your backyard and spend the entire night out there. Do not go in the house for any reason. If you like it, you will probably enjoy camping. When you are planning a long trip, bring games to increase the amount of fun that you have. Also, you can bring books or music to read or put on near a lake or fire. Include plenty of food, drinks and water in your camping supplies. It's also important to find out if their are bear-proof garbage cans in the area, or that you learn how to hang your food in trees if there are bears near your camping location. Burn your garbage and any left over food so bears are not attracted by the smell. Make sure you know which plants are poisonous. These plants can blend in with other plants, so be sure to know how to recognize them. You can learn about poisonous plants by reading a book or Googling "poisonous plants." This information will help you avoid contact with any of these plants. As was stated earlier, you can have a ton of fun camping, but you do need to be educated, informed and prepared. Use the knowledge you gained here to make your upcoming camping trip a successful one. Once you use them, every trip you plan will be a great one.