It's o.k.? They're permitted to roam free?

I inserted the key into the front door lock and clenched my teeth as I twisted my wrist. My wince was audible as I grabbed at the key a second time, changing the angle of my arm as I unlocked the door. The pain caused by 20 years of untreated carpel tunnel was exacerbated by the increased barometric pressure due to the approaching storm front. It was a long day and even though I knew sleep would not come easily, I looked forward to my bed and the relaxation I planned to revel in.

Weekends are exhausting and long, and it was only Friday night. The preparation starts as the previous weekend ends. Monday morning you awake with anticipation of accomplishing all that needs to be done before the campground fills. The weather forecast will dictate the order as well as the timing in which the various jobs must be completed. Weed whacking needs to be done again as well as re-mowing the grass. Bathrooms and showers are scrubbed from the weekend that just ended, reservations need a double check to be sure all deposits are received, and no sites have been double booked. Rental trailers and cabins are cleaned and readied for the next occupants. Garbage and recycling needs to be picked up and set out so it can be hauled off the premises only to repeat the entire exercise again. Needed repairs are always multiplying faster than anyone can keep up with. Soda, ice cream and candy vendors must be called with orders so you are fully stocked for the onslaught of campers that will arrive on Friday. Stockrooms are plundered; and all the while the phone rings non-stop with people calling with last minute plans, hopeful that you will be able to pull new sites out of thin air, so that they may disprove the lesson of Aesop’s fable depicted by the ant and the grasshopper. Every year we are amazed how many people do not plan ahead on a beautiful weekend of the summer?


I walked into the foyer without the need of lights; the route to my bedroom imprinted on every cell of my being. I’m grateful that my home is a split level and has 5 less steps to navigate than a 2-story house. My movements were as fluid as a well rehearsed dance, as I shed my clothes walking toward the bathroom, and donning the nightgown hanging behind the door. I brushed my teeth, swallowed my pills and collapsed onto the bed without enough energy to pull the heavy quilt on top.
One deep breath and I exhaled just as the muscles in my body began to release their white knuckle hold which kept my bones erect. And then it happened. I am convinced there is some neurological anomaly in my brain that causes a tune to permeate my subconscious at the very moment it should be shutting down for sleep. Tonight’s torturous selection was the theme song from the “Flintstones” cartoon. I was not having a yabba dabba do time!

Tossing and turning trying to remember any other song, I kept returning to “that modern stone age family”. It was amazing how the lyrics were stored in my brain without my knowledge. Perhaps that explains the inability to retain something I wanted to remember that occurred only moments before. The recesses of the brain fills with inconsequential junk which pushed the more recent mental notes to the forefront causing them to fall off the cranial clipboard with no hope for retrieval.

I decided to put into practice something I read about insomnia. Don’t lay awake, get up and do something. I grabbed my Kindle and went downstairs to read. I read for a few hours when my eyelids began to droop. First I tested my brain by flashing a mental picture of Fred and Barney, and finding no compulsion for replaying their song in my head I walked up both sets of stairs to the bed. It was now 3 o’clock am and I held little hope for a good night’s rest not to mention sleep.

I lay in bed thinking of how to organize the day so that it unfolds without a wrinkle. Put the coffee on first, put in the register drawers, check through the restrooms to make sure they are clean and toilet paper holders are filled. Next look to see what event is on the schedule and organize the needed supplies to carry it through to completion. 9:30 until 10:30 will bring the commotion of wolf watchers signing in, getting tickets, and directing them where to park; which way to go if walking up and where to wait for the bus if they decide they need to ride. There will be a lull between 10:30 and noon where it will just be campers getting their morning coffee and firewood. Then at noon, the morning wolf watchers will descend on the store to look for gifts and souvenirs. From 1pm to 3pm we return to being a campground, 3-6pm will start another round of wolf watchers and finally at 6pm we will be back to only campers filing in and out until 11:00pm when we cash out the drawers, run the reports, walk camp to be sure everyone is quiet and stumble up the steps again.

During this mental planning, I must have fallen asleep. In my dream I imagined a phone ringing. Hearing the rhythm I started to count them, one….. two…..on the third ring, I realized I was not dreaming, but listening, and I grabbed blindly for the phone trying to see which line was ringing. It was 6:30am.

“ Camp Taylor” I answered. Hearing the caller identify herself as the 911 operator jolted me into a full alert. “What is the problem?”, I asked, not really wanting to know but running all the possible scenarios through my mind in a flash. Heart attack, stroke drowning, fire, 3rd degree burns, broken leg…..the possibilities were endless. None however were the case.

“I have a camper on the line and he said there is a bear in their campsite” she explained. As my thoughts collapsed on each other, I could only respond with a single word. “So?” I answered.
“Oh, it’s o.k.? …. Are they permitted to roam free?” she responded.
I was too tired and baffled at that implication to have asked her to send the police to arrest the bear, so instead I simply requested to speak directly to the camper himself and she patched me through.

“You did not put your cooler in your car as you were told, did you”
it was more of a statement than a question. His meek response confirmed my suspicion. “It won’t leave”, he said in a worried tone. “It keeps coming closer to the tent and I have children in here”
“I’ll be right there” I answered, put the phone on the cradle and with reluctance, pulled on my jeans and searched for the rest of my clothing and car keys. My husband joined me and now that we were awake, rehearsed witty answers for the 911 operator in the unlikely event this circumstance should repeat itself. The absurdity of the situation brought back the familiar lyrics. …”lets ride, with the family down the street, through the courtesy of Fred’s two feet….
The car coming toward him was enough to move the bear away from the ransacked cooler and we approached the camper who was peeking out from under the tent flap. We surveyed the contents strewn about the overturned cooler as the camper crawled from his igloo- like shelter.
When the gentleman apologized and explained he thought we were just kidding about the bears, I was starting to seethe. Who would joke about something like that?. The seethe however soon dissipated into a laugh when he proceeded to demonstrate how from inside the tent he was whispering “shoo” to the bear so as not to awaken the other sites around him.
I shook my head in disbelief as my husband tried to explain to him the futility of his actions. “Seriously? A little purple dome whispering “shoo” or a cooler full of bacon, cheese and hotdogs, which would you choose if you were him?” I asked, as I reached for the car door knowing full well that the opportunity for sleep would have to wait for another 17 or 18 hours. By now every corpuscle of my body was clamoring for coffee.
I dropped my husband back at the house so he could get his vehicle and went to the office to make the first pot of Folgers. I began singing to my self…”have a yabba dabba do time, a dabba do time, we’ll have a gay old time”. As the door opened and my husband walked in, I was half expecting him to call for Wilma!

I poured my first cup of coffee, walked into the lounge and sank into the large chair in front of the fireplace as I let the flow of caffeine enter my bloodstream. I glanced at the clock. One hour before we open… I closed my eyes and willed the tension from my body, mentally preparing for another day.