Some weekly horoscope thing has told me to be cool, don’t get all uppity with my supervisors.

The last time it told me that – well, I didn’t quite manage it. And Yes! I have a meeting with my supervisor tomorrow! When life hands you lemons, it means you should go to bed and put your head under the blankies.

Anyway. We went camping. It was wonderful. It’s been a long, long time since I didn’t talk myself out of doing something fun. And we did it our way, which is to say not at all the way we started out.

We were planning to go to a campground about thirty miles away from here. It’s a beautiful place. We scoped it out a month or so ago. But I got thinking how this is Northern Wisconsin, and the campground is near a sort of large town, and it had just rained, and there was ATV-sign when we were out there. So we went around the Lake and up towards the Boundary Waters instead.

So, here we are, driving around in my home state, forgetting that all my internal maps are corrupted by non-use. I think Saturday’s detour was maybe an hour and a half. It was fun, stopping at Gooseberry Falls State Park, which is so busy on the weekends that they have a nice person in the entrance to direct you towards whatever parking lot you want to go to. When she asked, “Do you want to get to the falls?” with her arm half-raised to start pointing the way, I got to say, “No, I want to get to Ely.” She laughed, and said, “Well, you are a little lost.” Then she said, “If you look on your map…” If I’d had a map that was functioning, I would have realized I was supposed to turn thirty miles back. I’ve trained Daughter well; she recognizes the beginning of an adventure. So, we got to go through Finland, and quite a bit of nothingness. It was wonderful.

Sunday’s detour was much shorter, and involved a good deal of the Iron Range. And music history, when we saw the sign that said “Hibbing.”

We had a tent that we’d bought the spring before and never used. We rented a stove, lantern, cooler and pans from the campus store. So, what with all the adventuring, we got to the campsite around 5. Having some wits about me, I realized we’d better get things set up. We stumbled through getting the tent up ( a Eureka, and a great design), but when I tried to get the stove running, I couldn’t get it to pump up. We’d bought firewood, so we cooked hotdogs on sticks, and sacrificed many marshmallows to the Smoregods. (I can’t believe that we aren’t all diabetic from eating those things. Sheesh.) Breakfast was those silly packages of cereal that you can eat out of.

Sunday we stopped at the International Wolf Center, which was kind of a wash. We only saw one wolf, and the exhibits were lame. I guess it’s worth the admission if you go to the lectures. But while we were outside, we heard a raven croak.

I’m not sure where my brain was, in the packing part. I didn’t bring a hairbrush or toothbrush. No cooking utensils, nothing to wash with. No salt or pepper. And yet we managed to have a good time. The Demon of It’s Got to be Perfect For My Daughter laughed at me, long and hard.

So, Minnesota is still my home. I noticed I was driving much more confidently, even when we were lost. Sitting staring into the fire or up into the stars Saturday night was paradise. I can go home, but only to visit, for now. Another Demon to invite in.

Pictures tomorrow, I think.

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