Dear Creative Chicks,
Are familiar with something that is all the rage called Glamping. It is a combination of the words Camping and Glamorous: two words that have until now never been spoken in the same sentence. My family camped when I was a child and there was nothing remotely glamorous about it.
Glamping is camping that has taken a break from reality. Camping is a pain in the backside: sleeping in sleeping bags next to a campfire that keeps the wolves away but not the mosquitoes or the cold.
Glamping is drinking lots of fine wine with the wolf then cuddling under the 400 count Egyptian linens and a down duvet in a four-poster bed so that the cold or mosquitoes don’t matter.
Camping is roughing it on purpose so that you can experience the great out doors. Glamping is purposefully making your camping trip luxurious by hauling out precious items to the woods that Goldilocks would find, “just right.”
Will there be transportation? Pack mule? golf cart? little red wagon pulled by Huskies? (and you surely know me well enough to know I don’t mean the four-legged kind.) I don’t know about you, but hiking is only in my vocabulary as it applies to me telling some one to go take one.
Will there be food that isn’t pierced by a stick and held over the fire to cook until I am so hungry I am ready to eat the bark off the trees?
Will there be wifi? I don’t know about you, but I can live without Facebook for days if I have to. If the phone rings in the woods and there is no one there to hear it, does it make a sound? Heck yeah, especially if it is a stupid ring tone. Why do you think suburbia is being over run with wild life? They are sick of technology.
Before you attempt to go camping or glamping you might want to have a blood test. Not for the mosquitoes, but to see if camping is in your DNA. If you find you are descendents of Lewis and Clark; great. If not, you might be descendents of Lazy and Clueless. Lazy and Clueless have a tendency to forget to bring matches or toilet paper. Lewis and Clark know how to find their way home again. Lazy and Clueless think that the lady on their GPS knows to turn left at the big rock just three trees past the wild boar trail. She doesn’t.
Find out which group you belong to and go camping or glamping at your own risk. Me, I am headed for the woods back behind my house with a lawn chair, a library book and a candy bar. If you don’t hear from me again, you’ll know I misread my genealogy.