Jacob, you would have fucking LOVED this band.

Did you, well, did you hear the chorus of Les Friction's new song?

I think I've died a thousand deaths.

Every night I die just a little

All this time we're caught in the middle

All your lies you fought with no ending

This is just the end of the beginning

I'm on the Devil's highway

I've travelled all my life

All the pain you see is here

This is not the end

At least I think those are the words. The second half of the third line in each is a complete mystery but I did my best and I'm always loathe to ask someone with working ears to help me.

I am stubborn.

And REALLY dramatic when I like a song. And this one doesn't even show you what it has for you until a minute and a half in, which almost makes it that much better.

What are you doing, Peanut?

Murdering my own soul, I say, lost on a sea of notes and letters.

What? Lochlan looks alarmed. What are you listening to?

Nothing. Just being...dramatic, I tell him. He hates this band. It hurts my little ruined brain, my poor broken heart and my very shattered soul and so it's on his Please Don't list, which like everything he embarks on is far too polite and accommodating to me but the rules didn't work so good either so this is what we're left with. I destroy myself and he watches, helpless from afar.

Snow in the forecast for +3000 feet. Happy Canada Day!

There's a deluge outside. They have closed the pool, put the steps to the beach and the sauna off limits and towed the camper into the garage to address the leaks and get it dried out.

Camp is officially getting a re-opening day this coming Monday, a week behind schedule, which is fine as Labour day is late this year too and we can extend a little bit into September, no problem.

Lochlan forgot to do the re-caulking on one tiny area and it wreaked a little bit of havoc but he pulled everything out in that section, pulled up the flooring and took off the wall panels (he makes built-ins) and he said it will be as right as this rain is by Friday.

I know it will because he's always done these jobs and repairs and it's not catastrophic or anything. Hell, it's a tiny little camper with wheels as wide as my hands and not much more.

It's also heater-less and it's ten degrees right now so if anyone needs me I'll be in the fireplace.

Okay so camp isn't so bad after all.

It turns out the camper has a few leaks, and we discovered this at three this morning when the heavens opened and rain began to pour in sheets from the sky all around us, but also down one wall indoors.

Lochlan saved his chargers. Um, yay?

We ran to the garage (holyyyyyy rainnnnnnn) and decided to crash with August (lights on, still up) and that is how all three of us got our sharing badges first. I may not be able to read a fucking map but I can read men.

(Besides, do someone a favour and they will return it so we'll have some help today waterproofing that one wall we somehow missed.)

Let her fail (Also lunch was grilled cheese on the barbecue! So good!)

Are you all packed?

I am.

Show me.

You first.

He gives me that half-smile, that one that makes me want to rip my clothes off and throw them to the floor. God. Kill me now so this is the last thing I see.

He picks up his backpack and unzips it. It contains a couple of neatly folded outfits, his chargers (which is funny but he never doesn't pack them first) and a blanket. He's got another big beach bag with towels, food for a few days and two huge water bottles, plus sunscreen and bug spray.

He picks up my bag, and opens it, next to his. Inside is a tub of sour soothers, my dogeared copy of Practical Magic and a flashlight, my favorite hoodie (Breaking Benjamin pullover, XL, from the Dark Before Dawn tour when I finally got to see them live and cried the whole time holy fuuuuuckk) and two cans of Margaritas. Because campfire drinks. Oh, and fifteen packets of Mystical Fire. Because I like my fire pretty like my boys.

Lochlan laughs. This is exactly what I expected.

Right?

You got the Devil in there somewhere?, he says quietly.

No. He doesn't fit and he's not an appropriate type of baggage for this trip.

I am rewarded with a wide smile. What are you going to wear?

I put my arms out. Bikini underneath, I confirm and he nods.

Yes. Nothing has changed since 1980. So here's your actual bag. He pulls out my backpack. Inside is three outfits (I get an extra to every two of his because I was traditionally, historically messier), my chargers and a hat.

He never ever forgot a hat, even if it meant I was stuck wearing his green baseball hat, ponytail pulled through the hole which would be on the smallest setting and still way too loose.

Nice.

You're welcome.

THANK YOU. Also what's for lunch?

You'll find out after the morning's activities.

Which are?

Orienteering. You have to find camp first.

It's at the camper. Right at the end of the-

No, it's a treasure hunt. There are more things along the way to make our time fun, and you have to find them all to make your way to camp.

Oh! Awesome! Will you help me?

Maybe.

Just say warmer or colder when necessary.

I can do that, Peanut.

I can't wait.

****

They placed bets. I did not pass orienteering on my first try. Or my second.I found nothing. On my third attempt, when tears of frustration threatened to ruin the entire summer before I even made it to camp, Ben stepped in and gave me the world's fastest lesson on map reading. HUH. He yelled things like TURN IT OVER. NOW PUT IT SO THE COMPASS IS IN THE TOP LEFT. JESUS BRIDGET. HAHAHAHAHA.

SHUT THE FUCK UP BEN-

AH! You don't get badges if you indulge in profanity, Bridge. Lochlan's laughing so I don't even know if he's serious.

I'm going to call my mom to pick me up. I threaten, trying to hold my ground. The one I don't know where it is.

 Your mom?

PJ!

No, I've gone to Europe for the summer. Sent my kid to sleepaway camp. No phones. She'll be fine. (PJ yells this from the pool deck where he is watching me with amusement, along with everyone else.)

For FUCKS SAKES-

How about we learn orienteering during free time?

Because free time is SUPPOSED to be FUN-

I'll make it fun.

Like this?

I didn't think you were still THIS bad at finding your way with a map, Peanut.

When would I have had a chance to get better? I point out. Can we have lunch now?

We can. And maybe over lunch we'll have that first lesson, then. I think I'll scale back some of this week.

You guys do everything for me, I complain. You're the worst offender! I remind him.

Christ, someone's hangry, PJ says under his breath.

Don't you have somewhere to be? I ask PJ. Rome? Paris? Warsaw?

Warsaw?

Whatever!

The Farewell For The Summer visit.

What are you thinking about? His voice startles me. I am watching the clouds. He has the best view. Same one as the children. Out over the endless sea. I'm jealous but I also love my bathtub. His ensuite is small and perfunctory. There is a huge walk-in shower made of fucking granite but no bathtub. A bathtub will always be a dealbreaker for me. I need one.

We had a tub that hung on the back of the camper and Lochlan could take half a night to fill it with water boiled on the fire but he did it at least once a week for me. And then when the water was cold I would finally leave. He would add another few pots of hot water and then take a bath too. Never with me, back then, sadly, because the tub was small. It was a tin trough with handles. He barely fit in it alone. The water would slosh up the sides if he exhaled and I would laugh and laugh. But we were clean on the road and not many people can say that.

(Mainly it was to check for ticks. Once a week. Because it was the eighties and we lived on the edge of what, I'll never know).

I think I earned my Bravery badge.

Caleb frowns. I don't want you to feel afraid with me.

Don't lie to my face, Diabhal. I cajole him mildly. You thrive on your power trips.

Correction: I thrive on attention from you.

The negative attention after you-

Neamhchiontach. Let me enjoy this rare Sunday morning. The sun is fighting to come out, I don't have to go listen to Sam's deep doublespeak and I have the most beautiful woman in the world in my arms.

Fine. If you put it that way.

What made you come back?

Same reason I hit the cookie jar.

I'm sorry?

Craving something that's bad for me.

He laughs gently. Happy to be lumped in with your beloved cookies.

I think you're way worse for me.

Probably. I'm stupidly happy I got a spot in summer day camp though.

Yeah, I don't know about that. You'll probably be with a different group.

Why's that?

It goes by experience.

Oh, it does?

Yes and those who camp by first driving to MEC in their Audi and dropping four k on gear they don't know how to use but it looks cool are in the first group.

He doesn't say anything but then after a moment in a very quiet voice says, I look cool though, right?

It was the best answer he could have given to my smartass comment.

Yeah, you look pretty fucking cool, I whisper. He pulls me underneath him again and that's the end of the talk about camp and Sam and cookies and I can't see the sun anymore but I don't care.

Camp is expanding for 2020. Stay at home, kids.

The three boys are back (it was too soon to travel and not a great-great experience but a nice change of scenery, apparently) and as they all look in on our preparations for summer camp they all want in. Camping under the stars! Themes? Carnival food? Crafts and activities and badges and campfires?

Who the fuck wouldn't-actually don't tell me, I don't want to know them.

I have a feeling there might be a nearby camp they can go to, though. It's not a sleepaway camp but it's a luxury resort with a sauna, pool and outdoor kitchen. There is salt or fresh to swim in and the fridge is stocked and you can watch the campers from your lounge chair but they'll be too far away to interrupt you with any noise or anything.

During mermaid week you can probably meet the campers as they have the pool booked for several dates and maybe others too. One of the badges is Sharing (DON'T LAUGH) and we always did well with that (STOP LAUGHING I SAID) so by the end of the summer I'm pretty sure camp is going to be crowded.

Caleb is packing. He has been found room for for day camping only. And we have room for Ben for night camping only but this also depends on the mosquito sitch because he does not fit in the camper at ALL which is a travesty because sometimes I want to stuff him in it and close and lock the door and then he'll always be right there and I like that.

Duncan said he's only interested in one week and we all said NO at the same time which was funny. I'll change my mind later on that probably though because campers get homesick and need familiar surroundings and my boys are my familiar surroundings but I'm still really excited.

Really really excited.

Also Gage is not weird now that he's back. Thank God.

Forgot to wear rainproof eyeliner. Didn't forget to pick up some wine.

Packing for camp. Only the warmer but not the too-warm nights will be spent at the camper, or as we see fit. Lochlan said to bring that green bikini and little else. I feel like he might have his theme weeks mixed up but then again, I think I could start a fire in that bikini.

I'm also bringing a huge bottle of Advil because I have a killer headache. No sleep. Too hot. Stuff on my mind. Excitement about camp. The usual. You know. The Devil asked if he could come to sleepaway camp.

No, I said. Your mom should have preregistered you like...last spring. It's too late now.

Oh, he said, looking dejected. What if I didn't know about it?

Maybe next year, I offer helpfully. If there's room.

Holy fuck (burning for two).

Wearing cut off denim shorts and a t-shirt that reads I WISH YOU HAD SUBTITLES today, green bikini underneath. It's sunny and it will be warm though I will spend half of today ferrying my kids to their jobs hopefully with little overlap. Then I'll cook dinner and crash because I think if I got even five minutes of sleep last night I would be profoundly surprised.

Caleb walks into the kitchen, reads my t-shirt and laughs out loud, uproariously.

That's a good shirt.

It is.

Where did you find it?

John bought it somewhere online for me.

It's great. Honestly.

I smile at him. He's stopped being weird and is either resigned now or has opted to continue to ignore his fate. I think he's ignoring it, personally but as the day goes on we'll find out for sure. For now I am busy reading the white board. One side is chores, doubled down because three of us are away and so the chores are divided up, as they sadly don't take vacations, and the other side is (in Lochlan's handwriting)...

Theme weeks for summer camp.

Eight of them.

This is great:

1. Camping camp (skills for the woods)
   
2. Animal camp
   
3. Mermaid camp
4. Space camp
   
5. Circus camp
6. Circus camp2 (extended to a second week by popular demand)
7. Sexy camp (adults only XXX)
8. Extended longplay camp
   

ALL WEEKS ARE MANDATORY FOR BADGE COLLECTION SEPT 1st.

There are badges?!

I'm in!

Midway (between spring and fall).

Ooh. Lochlan put up the post last night, in the rain. It's a telescoping flagpole with a magnificently sharp edge in order to be able to drive it deep into the ground and it expands from three feet to twelve. It's got an eye hook at the top and a line in order to fly a flag but he always used to it to string up the tiny flickering bulbs from our camper door to the post and then to the back of the camper where he would attach them to the ladder so we would have a triangle of front yard on nice evenings.

Oh, how I love him.

I say flickering because they were finky. He ran them off an old car battery that he would charge while we drove, piggybacking on the trucks electric, hoping for the best. Those lights flickered like his dreams, he always said, and it made me sad.

We have power out by the camper now, but just for those lights. Actually for all the lights and if you need to run the lawn tools out by the fence, since I love corded lawnmowers (I don't but it's been at least 10000 days since I ran over a cord). PJ and Ben dropped a shielded cable all the way to the fence gates so that I would have lights going down the stairs and also for power to the boathouse but that was years ago.

When the grass dries Lochlan will spread out the three huge tapestries that we use as outdoor flooring. Yes, he still has them, though the camper is seven generations new, at least.

I really, really love this man.

I'm so excited. When I told him it was due to be the quietest summer ever he immediately made plans. A rotation of corn dogs, funnel cakes, cotton candy and caramel apples, lemonade and snow cones (we have a cotton candy machine and a snoopy sno-cone maker). The lights lining the house and grounds are not to be turned off from here on out, until Labour Day, and he said I can be chucked off the cliff at least twice a day for 'rides' as we still can't get a permit to add a Ferris Wheel or a Carousel to the backyard (because West Vancouver is a snobby bitch of a district to live in, okay and we're not going to talk about that) or he can push me reallllly high on the swing (which I actually don't like, can you believe it?)  and we'll walk the slack line (but only with spotters because it's higher off the ground than I am tall) and we'll have our own all-summer-long fair.

Did I mention how cool he is? You don't have to do that, Locket.

He laughs. Let's be honest, Peanut. We do it anyway each year.

Yup, I love him so much it's positively gross.

A summer without fairs.

Let me just stand here in the rain and let the gravity of the very first summer of my life without a single fair, amusement park visit or carnival wash over me and dilute my blood into tears.

Sure, it's a first-world problem. It's also a way of life for ex-carnies like me. I've never passed up a fair, a ride or the food stands in my damn LIFE and now there will be nothing for at least one year.

I don't know if I hope it changes, but because I'm selfish, secretly I do. There is nothing better. You leave your worries (and your wallet) at the gates and scream the rest into the void, run the sugar in your blood up to hit the bell, win a prize, consider going on the run with the show (do it, you'll never regret it) and leave late into the night when the lights start to spin just a little.

Nothing else says summer like that, and so I'm allowed to grieve for it. Just for a minute here.