Town and Country
The clock ticked very slowly like it was moving slow on purpose, as I sit unsteady in that uncomfortable seat, waiting for the sound of the dismissal bell. I was impatient, excited, and ready to run out of school as fast as possible. It was the weekend; Fridays were my favorite day of the week, not only was it a break from school for 3 days, but it also meant we were going to my second home, “Town and Country”, aka the campground.
At the age of 7, I always had to walk home from school, so it made the anticipation of going to the campground double. I was finally home from school, run upstairs, and get my things together to go camping. I would a select few items of clothing, clothes I know I would be getting mud on. The car was packed and ready; too bad the ride out there was an hour long. Never would I sleep on those car rides, it was always fun to watch out the window, seeing all the barns and acres of crops. The best part of that drive for me was seeing the horses eating grass right by our exit, horses were my obsession. I would always know when we were close, I could close my eyes and say were we were just by the feeling of each bump or hill on the road. Once I felt the car drive over the rubble I knew we had made it.
A typical day at the campground would include the strong sent of campfire, looking at each camper to see who was camping that weekend and who wasn’t, and the creeping sent of fresh air. Finally we arrived at our site, now it’s time to put my belongings in the camper and go. I never wanted to do the hard work of getting the camper all set up, I just wanted to do my own thing and explore. I never acted like a girl while I was at the campground; all I ever wanted to do there was go frogging and catch turtles. Our campground had four lakes, two in the front, and two in the back. The back lakes were where I would go every time. It was so peaceful back there, no campers, never any people, it was all nature. For hours on end I would walk around the lakes, with my net and sometimes a bucket on hand. I was looking for turtles; I could catch them with my bare hands at times. When I couldn’t find any, I would be so upset that I searched half the day for them. I still loved being in the back though; it was my place of adventure.
At the end of the day it would be dinner time, and my mom always made some type of dinner. I’d come back to the camper all muddy, and my mom wouldn’t be too happy that my clothes had clumps of mud all over them. She would usually have me take them off on the deck so I wouldn’t get dirt all over the camper, embarrassing. After dinner I had to shower, or my bed would be gross. The water at the campground was cleaned sewer water, so it smelled bad; I hated it, at times it felt like I wasn’t even getting clean because of the water. My mom wouldn’t always let us shower at the camper, so we would have to take the golf cart up to the public showers, those were the worst. There were always spiders and other people’s hair in those showers; everything was all wet so my clothes would get wet half of the time, awful. I always felt like a hillbilly when I was out there.
Each morning I would rush to eat my breakfast and get out of the camper. I wasn’t old enough to drive the golf cart, so I had to walk everywhere. At times my sister would ask to come with me to wherever I was going, but I knew she would think I was weird if she came with me, she’s 3 years older than me. I’d only want to go adventure by myself, because no one had a mind like I did. Walking to my usual spot and getting into my hunting mindset, the back had a lot of land area as well, and there were four wheeling jumps, so I would explore all around the grass land and climb up the jumps. I would even look for wild berries and eat them, (good thing I never got sick). I’d get back to walking around the lakes, my technique with my net is scoop, feel the net to see if anything is moving, dump it out onto the grass,...
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