Black Hole Sun, originally uploaded by lightgazer (will return someday).

Sailing isn’t going to happen. We actually didn’t make it off the wait list. I thought it was going to happen and then, crash – no sailing. I’m a little sad about this if only because I grew up in Northern BC. We didn’t sail. Our summer camps consisted of making sure we didn’t have leeches on our legs after coming from the lake and swatting the mosquitoes the size of eyeballs once they had collected enough blood to make them really SPLAT on our friend’s arms.

Sailing just seemed like so much fun. Anything that has to do with the ocean seems like such a treat for Dickson and I. Even going down for a walk on Dallas Road brings on sigh after sigh about how lucky we are to live in a place so beautiful. People come from all over the world to see our little corner and of all the places I’ve travelled to this is truly the most beautiful.

So, it’s with this appreciation that we look on Franklin’s protests.

“The O-C-E-A-N… Why do we have to go there?”

It is hard to see how good you have it when you don’t know anything different. The ocean is practically in his backyard and he thinks this is a normal everyday thing. Just recently, however, he’s been easier to get to the beach. We have moved to by a particular beach that he likes and so we only have to ask him once (okay, maybe twice) and he’s game.

Phew.

However…. What to do in place of Sailing Camp? I’m clearly going to have to find something because you know what we did today after swimming? He opened his own bank account.

Yes. The Camp of Mom is just riveting.