The Camp

 When Martha and Evie were younger, their dad built a camp in the wood. He went to a lot of trouble with it, as the pictures show, and back then they used it a lot. But children grow up, and their own comfortable bedrooms are often more appealing than roughing it in the woods. Even though there would always be s’mores.

The camp still gets used, though. Some of our friends with young children spend the occasional night in the woods, and although Martha and Evie never go there now, we do have a regular pair who camp out at least twice a month. That would be Ben and Sara.

Those two love the camp. You would never think that they have their own comfortable home a couple of miles from here. They love listening to the birds and whatever other creatures might be about. I'm sure badgers and foxes must pass them by during the night. 

It hasn’t always been occupied by such wholesome campers. There were the 'hallions'. These guys were friends of Bert and Ben’s dad, and they used the camp on a couple of occasions. Dave was not pleased, for he felt the site had been disrespected. There might have been a broken beer bottle. Or two.

Our dogs love Sara and Ben’s camping nights best and will go out with them to help set up camp. Often, Bert will have to go and collect them around 10 or 11 pm, as we worry that they might, Jess especially, get disorientated in the dark.

It’s not just that they love Ben and Sara; they love campfire cooking too. For there are always sausages.

Jess has been a bit of a worry lately. At almost 14, she has been losing weight and becoming increasingly fussy about food, despite several visits to the vet and our efforts to tempt her with different things. So perhaps I shouldn’t have been surprised by what happened last night.

She was discovered stealing the camper's chicken, carefully opening a packet of three, selecting one and wolfing it down raw.

No need for me to worry about her calorie intake last night. The old rascal is clearly taking matters into her own paws.

Yet I’ve never spent a night in the woods. I can’t imagine I’d be as comfortable there as I am in my own cosy bed, and the number of times I need to get up for a pee during the night would make it somewhat impractical. But I’m pleased that others enjoy it, and glad that it’s there for them. And whenever I see the camp being used and enjoyed, I remember that it’s all because of Dave that we have it.

And sometimes, in the morning,  Jess returns to the camp to see if there are any forgotten sausages. If not, she curls up in the tent for another sleep. Photo courtesy of Ben.