Monkey absolutely loves life on vacation so far. He wakes up and a breakfast of his choosing is served by whatever adult happens to be in the kitchen (and there is always an adult in the kitchen at camp.) This morning it was toast, one slice with peanut butter and one with homemade strawberry jam (made two days ago, it’s delicious) and hot chocolate. The only slight hitch was when he looked into his mug of hot chocolate and then looked back at me, “Fluff?” Oops. Grammy & Co. will rectify that oversight today when they go to the local IGA.
After breakfast there are hours and hours of playing ball. The best part is that there are so many grown-ups around that there is a new one to step in each time he exhausts one! Yay for endless playmates! If playing ball ever gets boring (hey, it could happen) there are always rocks needing to be thrown into the brook, butterflies to be chased and dogs to be teased. Earlier Grampa dug out a beach ball about ¾’s the size of the Monkey-man so the chances of ball playing getting to be boring today are slim to none. I’m not going to break that bit of news to my nephew who has been on ball duty for 3 hours now. Oh, to be 18 again! Ha!
Have ya’ll ever had a Trashcan Turkey? I know how it sounds but it is yummy! The turkey is placed vertically on a spit stuck into the ground. A small galvanized trashcan is placed upside down over the turkey. Then BBQ briquettes are placed around the outside base of the trashcan and on top of the inverted can and it’s left to cook for a couple of hours.
I’m a little vague on deciding the doneness of the turkey but I know it involves either the beginning or cessation of some noise or other. Clearly, I’m not a qualified trashcan chef. Fortunately, there are a number of folks here with us who do know how the process works. No one of us has ever died from food poisoning after consuming one so they must know what they’re doing, right? One year the poor little turkey came out rather…mummified…but the technique has since been refined.
Lunch will be a well-executed potluck -style meal for, errr, 12, I think. Trashcan turkey, pasta salad, stuffing and strawberry cupcakes with cream cheese frosting are on the menu. There will probably be other stuff too, if there is one thing we know how to do here it is eat. Oh, and drink. Cocktails will start on the deck at lunch today; and will continue until bedtime, lol.
I’m hoping bedtime comes a little bit earlier tonight than it did last night. After putting Monkey to bed about ½ hour late we all went about our business. Around 10 PM he called me upstairs, I tried to get him to sit by the campfire but it was a no-go. I think he was freaked out by the dark. “Dark” up here, far from any town, is a lot darker than “dark” at home surrounded by thousands and thousands of homes and streetlights. I’m fairly sure he never got more than two hours of uninterrupted sleep.
I wonder if there is any chance he’ll nap? Not really. I’m acutely aware that he’ll be up until 7:30 or 8 again tonight, no matter how painful it is for all involved.
Cocktails started promptly but the turkey took a bit longer than expected. That is my excuse for, uh, smearing whipped cream in MY MOTHER’S FACE shortly after we finished. In my (very limited) defense, she had been laughing at me because my perfectly styled whipped cream had just fallen off my cupcake and landed on the counter. She was totally dissing me, within arms-reach even, and I had had cocktails (plural!) I’m an awful daughter. She’s promised revenge, though, so at least we know where I get it from.