Saturday, March 17, 2012

Meet the Colemans

People raised in a trailer park in the middle of Essex County don’t camp. But try telling that to my outdoorsy friends, who like polar-fleeced Jehovah’s Witnesses, wax rapturously over places with uncomfortable and worrisome names like Killbear and Grundy. They’re good-hearted souls and apart from their canoe obsession have no other debilitating personality flaws. Once they set up a tent for me, my son and our two dogs. Dan escaped to the Echo. By the third night I’d resigned myself to fitful slumber, alternatively lulled and asphyxiated by the cry of the loon and Siko’s incessant and robust farting.

Image: Trip Advisor


  1. love this post Laurie. Your bravery and grace in the face of flatulence, flies and fleecy friends - is admirable. You are always welcome
    at the camp.

    1. Fleecy
      Seeing you wield an axe in your tevas gave me the strength to carry on. I just kept asking myself, "What would Fleecy Do? What would Fleecy Do?"


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