I've been a bit MIA, sorry. But I've been keeping up on my reading of all your blogs.

We're getting ready for Maine. Its promise is to be full of nature, swimming, sun, kayaking, eating seafood, shopping, and bumming around.

Some of my earliest memories of dating bub are when we were camping.

Our first trip was to a site out in western MA, near school, and was completely spontaneous. Well, not that spontaneous. I think bub warmed me up to the idea of camping during one of our many phone calls during the week. Then on a trip to visit me, a tent was stowed in the back of the Wagoneer, just in case.

There was lots of studying to do and as an English major that translates into lots of reading, note-taking, highlighting, more reading, and ultimately writing.

So I dragged my hefty book of Shakespeare's works with me to the wildnerness. After the tent was set up, I sprawled on my belly and used what was left of the daylight to pour over words introduced to me in high school and regurgitated again with different, more obtuse explanations.

I'm pretty sure there was a lot of sighing and some complaining. Shakespeare is fine, but not really a camping activity.

We enjoyed a warm fire, toasted marshmellows, and perhaps some beer stew. The beer stew is a trademark camping meal bub makes so well...

But before Maine is a trip to get this done tonight. Ugh. The things we do.