Today, we went to the high country - Mt. Lemmon.  Only a stones throw from Tucson, and cool, cool, cool.  We had lunch in Summerhaven, the sweet town at the top of the mountain.  We bought fudge at the General Store.  We rode the chair lift to the top of the ski hill.  Then, we slowed down and kicked the kids out of the truck.  Ok, don't get all freaky on us, we dropped them off at summer camp.

I went to summer camp every year from first grade on.  I have such remarkable memories of the cabins, and the trees.  The arts and crafts, the canoes, swimming in the icy water of Seeley Lake (thats in the more North country of Montana).  I was only scared when it was meat or pancakes, because then I had to sit at Julie's table, because I couldn't cut my own food.  I want the camp experience for my kids, and I want them to have the experience of independent living, in a totally fun and controlled environment, fully regulated by all kinds of grown ups. 

At our camp, on the last day, we made bark boats covered with flowers, and secret notes and candles and sailed them off down the river while some type of mysterious music played (can this be true?  where was the music coming from?).  And so, today, we sailed the girls down the beginning of the river to independent living.  No flowers or candles, but a couple secret notes.  As always, with my kids, there were no backward glances, and I had to sneak a kiss so the other kids wouldn't see.  They were excited, eager and ready to take on camp.  I think that is a good thing.

Plus, of course, that means Phil and I get to date all week, and that is a good thing, too.  I hope we remember how.