Camping in Cardinal, part 1

June 7, 2010 by Barbara.

As the time until Ken’s departure draws nearer, we’re looking for things that we’ve been meaning to do together or things we would do if he were here. We decided that camping at the KOA in Cardinal belonged in at least one of those categories. When I made the reservations and was able to get one with a porch swing, I took it as a good omen. The weather forecast calls for rain - making me remember all too clearly the last time we three came camping - but I’m holding on to the swing omen.

Ken and I got everything packed and then went to pick Reid up. The car was full with just a nook in the back seat where she would sit in her seat. Despite our best efforts, we’re ended up crossing Ottawa in the middle of rush hour. The drive that Google Maps said would take 1 hour and 12 minutes took much, much longer. We quickly unloaded the car and I prepared fried hot dogs and chips for supper. Nutrition isn’t my top priority when we get to a camp site. I think I learned that from Grandma Joyce.

After supper, Ken built a fire while Reid and I went over to the jumping pillow. I couldn’t face the pool but jumping isn’t so bad. Reid was excited to stay up late and I was looking forward to toasted marshmallows. Reid was looking forward to eating raw marshmallows and toasting others for me to eat. I like mine golden. Ken likes his to be on fire and then extinguished but still Reid has to cook for me. Reid was so pleased when she managed her “first-ever golden marshmallow”, after one sacrificed to the fire and another to the grass.  At this point, I must pause to say, marshmallows seemed much bigger when I was a kid. The miniatures seem right but what used to be “jumbo” seem much less so than they did back then.

We finally headed to the bathroom for a final visit about 8:30. As we went out the door, one of the friendly KOA people noticed that Reid was holding a wet paper towel to her arm. Worried that she was injured, the young woman asked if we needed first aid supplies. I assured her that we could manage the bite, that the cool water helped. We really don’t need to encourage Reid’s sense of drama over mosquito bites. Another time I should probably pack insect repellent and after-bite lotion. Reid’s flesh seems to be particularly appealing to insects. And to her mama, though I only *pretend* to bite.

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