This is the first time out for our new camper, and first time it’s just the two of us (except for the dogs).
I don’t know which one feels stranger.
I have camped most of my life, with some gaps in years between campsites. But it’s always been in a tent. Lots of bending and pulling and grunting before you can sit and listen to the wind blow.
As my retirement gift to myself, we bought a little RV. Now most of the movement is about not bumping into each other inside the small surroundings.
I’ve also always gone camping with my kids and grandkids. There is no life better than sitting around a campfire talking and smoring with family and friends.
Last night it was just the two of us.
Tonight for dinner it will be just the two of us.
Tonight around the fire it will be just the two of us.
The jury is still out on the two of us thing.
I love my husband. He let’s me be me. Even if that Me is goofy half the time.
But times like these are the real test for a relationship. No taking off and folding laundry, no going downstairs and making Angel Tears, no going out to the garage and working and fixing stuff all day.
This is silence. Together. Daylight and evening light. No movies or kids to distract us. No job to go to, nowhere to hide.
It’s been quite interesting so far.
I know we are not Siamese Twins. We don’t need to be glue balled to each other 24/7. We actually LIKE each other. Despite the fact that I love writing and Crafts and he loves hunting and fishing, we seem to give each other enough space to be our own selves.
But with my adult onset A.D.D. I sometimes find it hard to just sit still and do nothing.
To read and then play a video game on my iPad then take a little nap then walk the dog then read then write a blog then read some more then find a gossip column on my phone is my idea of doing nothing.
He sits and reads.
I’m still getting used to this camping alone thing.
Then again, “being alone” is a relative term, right?