TGIF

What a productive week I've had.  How about you?  Do you gauge you week based on the things you got done?  By the walks you took or the photographs you made?  Or the poems or prose you cranked out?

My week included:

• mourning like shit over my heart news
• getting over mourning like shit over my heart news
• setting up bookshelves in my office/guest bedroom
• finally getting to soak in my deep tub (wounds healed from procedure last week)
• grocery shopping on line at Safeway (what a great service if you don't mind paying a $10 fee)
• watching a couple of funny stand-up comedians whose focus was IMMIGRANTS
• making greeting cards with my photos
• watching the Davis Klezmer Orchestra.

And then, on Thursday, I finally got my transferred slides back from Costco.  Some weeks ago I came across 8, count 'em 8, sides from the mid 1970s to the mid 1980s.  In the earliest, I am 18 and look about 12.  These slides document setting off on a camping trip with some friends.

Packing up with Chris.

In the back with Paula.

 

 

 

Truck broke down before leaving the Monterey Peninsula

My friends and I went camping on my grandfather's land near Placerville, CA.  We did it the summer of our Junior year in high school, and the summer after our senior year.  It was a great way to spend some time during break, and we were pretty much left to our own devices even though, for our Junior year trip, our parents demanded that we have a chaperone or two.  So we did, but they were totally cool with us doing whatever, so long as no one got killed.  The trip from our homes in Carmel took about 5 hours, and I believe Paula and rode in the back of the truck the whole way.  No sunscreen, no windbreakers.  We were young and stupid.  Things were pretty laid back in the mid 1970s -- including adults allowing older teenagers to have some fun without interference.

Trips included a lot of beer, marijuana, and for some of us, LSD.  The property had a good sized river running through it, a great big swimming hole, and two well maintained campsites, and plenty of hiking areas.  I had spent my childhood winters on this land, helping out with the Christmas tree farm my family owned.  Much of the land was still wild, and that's where we camped.  We'd go into the tiny town for provisions, all 10 or so of us hippie types.  The town was pretty conservative and we got some strange looks, but generally were not molested in any way.  And, of course, we would make the pilgrimage to Grandpa's house to thank him for allowing us to camp.  We were great campers, and left the land cleaner than we found it.

What wild teenage exploits have you got to share?  I want to know!

Have a wonderful weekend.