Hello Vermont!

Growing up, my family went camping in Vermont several times each summer. Every year, we would "rock hop" up the river that my hippie parents lived on before they had me. We would visit a "natural water slide" where you could slide down the side of a mountain into water so cold that you started swimming back up the minute your toes hit. We would swim in quarries so deep and so dark that I was actually scared. We fished in the river, slept in a lean-to, picked wild raspberries and ate maple sugar candy. At night, we would lay in a field and watch shooting stars. We launched paper airplanes and throw rocks from the Ball Mountain Dam and then eating at the "Dam Diner". I loved it.

Although they have upgraded from lean-to to rather large camper, complete with bath tub and air conditioning, my parents still go every year. I haven't been since before I got married. As much as I love it, the prospect of camping with really young kids has not been overly appealing. This week, we finally felt brave enough to give it a try.







































We had a wonderful time. My best camping trip ever. I get a little teary eyed thinking about how incredibly special it was to be with my parents and Brad, Sam and Grace doing the things that I loved when I was a little girl. I think my parents felt the same way that I did.