Summer camp 101

A summer camp by any other name.

It was just a few minutes south of town. And I was the taxi driver, transporting our granddaughter to the summer day’s activity, her day camp. Only this day was different. She had her cap, her bug spray and a big sports bag packed with stuff. And added to the luggage was a pillow.

“We’re having a sleepover tonight,” she said.

Summer rite of passage

This week, summer settled in. The news isn’t worth reading for a while. The backyard is halfway between being under some control and being taken over by weeds. Any songbirds that are coming, have come. A lot of neighbours have disappeared to their cottages. I’ve slipped into a summer break like a pair of favourite sandals. Then, the other day, my daughter dropped by.

“Taking two of the kids to summer swimming camp,” she told me.

“Yup. It’s summer,” I sighed.