Camping is not for me

I have discussed this before in a reply to Tattooed Mummy’s post.

Camping really isn’t for me. When my brother and I were young we used to go camping every year. We spent 3 weeks in a tent. No electricity, no normal bed, no tv. It was fun. I loved it and couldn’t wait to do it again the next year.
So when I moved out of my mom’s house I went camping with my ex. Now our relationship was already falling apart, but this trip might have pushed me over the edge.

The camping space we reserved had been given to somebody else. I wasn’t too happy about it, since it meant setting up my tent in a spot I didn’t really like. By next Wednesday we were fighting a lot. And it started raining. Not very hard, a mild drizzle. It didn’t stop until friday morning. When I woke up I heard some strange noises. Not knowing what it was I turned and hoped I could get a bit more sleep. 30 minutes later I saw the tent floor rise. Within seconds the water came up and the tent started to flood. I tried to wake up ex, but he didn’t want to wake up. So I let him lay in the tent that now had about 4 inches of water in it. I desperately tried to rescue my medication and my clothes, but before I could do anything the water rose further. By the time ex woke up because he was getting wet I was out of the tent and standing in 12 inches of water. Everything I’d packed was wet and the shock gave me an asthma attack. I dragged everything out of the tent onto dry land. Ex stood there doing nothing. I managed to call my dad who had a real shock when he heard what was going on. He immediately stepped in his car and went to pick us up.
After that ex and I broke up.

Then I met Jay. I wanted to forget what happened with ex, so we went camping again. Different tent, different campsite, different part of the country. Everything was going to be awesome!
The first few days were going great. Until a rabbit decided to dig a hole right outside our tent. In the middle of the night I had to go pee. I went out without my glasses, stumbled right into the rabbit hole and managed to seriously bruise my ankle. We stayed at the campsite for a few more days until we realised my ankle wasn’t going to get better and we went home. Jay had to carry everything, as I couldn’t stand on one leg. Luckily Jay’s parents picked us up from the harbour.

photo courtesy of ginz:
photo courtesy of ginz:

Two years on and we decided to try camping again. Same tent, same campsite, same island. It was the end of June and it was cold. So very cold.
We were trying to cook on a tiny gas burner, but strong winds kept blowing it out. Other camping guests lent us their windscreen (3 metal plates put together with duct tape) and we managed to cook dinner. The next day those guests moved on and we couldn’t even make tea. That night we really thought our tent was going to blow away. It was horrendously windy and cold. But the tent was still standing when the sun came up and the wind had gone down a bit. We had a great day cycling around the island. When we went home we realised we couldn’t cook dinner, so we went for fish and chips. It didn’t taste as good as it did back home, but we ate it anyway. Big mistake!
We ended up having foodpoisoning and had to go home. Again…

So we decided never to go camping again. I really think Murphy’s law is in place for me when it comes to camping.

This post is inspired by today’s Daily Prompt. For more entries, please click here.

6 things you probably didn’t know about me

Many of us think of our lives as boringly normal, while others live the high life. Take a step back, and take a look at your life as an outsider might. Now, tell us at least six unique, exciting, or just plain odd things about yourself. Daily Prompt.

6 Things, that’s easy. Right? As it turns out, not so much. But I think I’ve come up with 6 things you probably didn’t know. Or maybe you did.

  1. I have an eiditic memory. Sounds great, but it’s not. I even remember the bad things that happened. And I can never forgive someone for something they’ve done ages ago.
  2. I do forget things. Like how many cats I kicked out the door. Or what to buy in the supermarket.
  3. I love llamas. Llamas (ans alpacas) are cute. I love seeing them out in a field. Too bad there aren’t many llamas or alpacas around here.
  4. I can walk past you without noticing you are there on the streets. But don’t worry, it’s not because I don’t want to see you. I just don’t notice you. I’ve been known to walk into my own mother without noticing…
  5. I have an irrational fear of dirty plates. I can’t help it. I find dirty plates the most horrendous thing I can think of. The idea that someone just ate off it is making me physically ill.
  6. I have a very twisted sense of humour. It’s a family thing. All my relatives are the same. If you ask me if I can do something for you, my reply probably would be: “I don’t know, can I?” Or “No, no, I can’t.” But I’ll almost always do it!

For more entries, click here.



A rule to live by

Have you ever had a mentor? What was the greatest lesson you learned from him or her? Daily prompt asks us.

My opinion is that you learn something from everyone you meet. You just need to filter out the most important things. There are two things, rules if you like, I live by.

The first is: Be true to yourself. Because if you aren’t, you are not you anymore. And you are the most important person to you.

The second is: No matter what situation you are in, always think “how would I want to be treated?” If you treat someone with disrespect, would you like it if you were in their shoes? Many times a day I take a little step back and ask myself “What if I was him/her. How would I feel? This, to me, is extremely important in my work. I’m dealing with people who, now, need a lot of help. But they’ve been around for so much longer than I have. And now a 25 (cough cough) year old comes in and tells them what they should do? Don’t think I’d like that very much… So I try to treat them with the respect I would want. I try to see them as the person they once were, not the man who forgets everything or the woman who just pees her pants because she has no bladder control. He had a good running business, she was head nurse. You can’t forget that and just see them like they are now. They once were like I am now.


I’ve always thought I live a very boring life. I don’t drink alcohol, I don’t smoke. I don’t go out (health issues have always prevented me from doing that), I don’t have (many) friends. I’d love to change the last one, but I’m having trust issues, so that’s very hard.

Yesterday, when we were talking at work about what we did before we came to work there, someone suggested I had led a pretty interesting life up until now. I’m still not sure why she said that. Yes, I have worked in lots of different jobs (cashier, gas station attendant, butcher, cleaner and now a nurse), but does that make my life interesting?

It does make that I can change jobs pretty easily. I fit in in a lot of places. I can easily adjust to new work environments. But does that make me interesting I wonder, or is it just the things I did or do that are interesting?

This post is inspired by today’s Daily Prompt.

Why babies are creepy

This week, once again, has made it awfully clear that I really don’t like kids. My sister-in-law called with the news that she’s pregnant. I already knew this, as it was showing in her whole body a couple of weeks ago. But now she wanted to share the big news with her brother and sis-in-law. Too bad I’m not really happy about it. I am happy for her, just not for me.

I’ve said this before, I don’t like kids. They’re very annoying and scare the crap out of me. I’ll show you why.

This is how I see babies. They’ve got huge heads, big bulging eyes and I have no idea if they come in peace or not. Most likely not, according to my ears. They scream, cry, yell, whine, whimper and howl. They stink, smell and reek.

You are familiar with Pavlov, right? If not, open the link and then come back. I’ll wait for you.
From day one we condition babies by giving them attention as soon as they start crying. The kid will learn that crying is a good thing. Crying gets rewarded with attention, a bottle or a clean diaper. Then, when the kid is about two years old, two years worth of conditioning, we say to them “oh, by the way, crying (which gave you all the attention before) is a bad thing. We don’t want crying, from now on we want you to talk.” Confusing much?

In my opinion, kids shouldn’t be seen or heard until they are at least ten years old. By that time they’ve probably learned that they shouldn’t talk unless someone talks to them. If they haven’t, this should be a good way of keeping them quiet.

photo credit:
photo credit:

You might also like this post.