His bag has been packed, and he's been sleeping in his new NZ-standard sleeping bag for weeks.
It's not without a little trepiditation that I will wave my first-born off to camp. There's his life-threatening tree nut allergy to worry about - but the teachers are all aware of that, and he'll have his epipen of course.
Then there are the physical activities - the kids get to do really challenging things, like abseiling, target practice (with air rifles) and archery. There are climbing walls, a flying fox, kayaking, and something called 'the scream machine', where they fly around the gym hanging onto the end of a rope. Then there's the Burma Trail, a walking track across wobbly bridges and via swinging logs which they do by night, or blindfolded during the day! Husband and I have visions of him coming home with broken bones and bruises!
On the plus side, C. will enjoy toasting marshmallows over camp fires, late night milo, and singalongs. Best of all, (says C), is the fact that it's not lights-out until 9.30 pm! (Usually it's 7.30 pm at home).
In other news, in my never-ending quest to find interesting-shaped fruit, I have at last succeeded in finding Men Kumera!
Yes, in the fashion of the Man Orange, I was stunned to find not one, but two racily-shaped kumera in the vegie aisle.
Luckily, I rushed home to breathlessly photograph them, because the next night Husband ruthlessly roasted one of them to have with dinner. (Very nice it was too, with roast beef, potatoes, Yorkshire pudding, peas, corn and gravy.)
What shall I do with the remaining one? Put it on trademe and wait for the millions to roll in?
