Warn

Do you need to wench something? Anything? Because if you do, Jared is at the ready. Last weekend he wenched a carload of youngun's out of a mud pit in the woods. Today he wenched down a massive vine from Grandma and Pop's yard. Apparently, there is nothing better for a man's heart, soul, and beard than to wench something on a regular basis. My father got Jared a Warn wench for his birthday. Men just know. 

We camped this weekend at Oak Mountain. We put the blow up mattress in the tent and the bathroom was only 100 yards away, so it wasn't exactly primitive camping. However, we were definitely stinky when we got home. Something about the sweat mixed with the creek water mixed with the camp fire smoke. I love camping simply because technology disappears. Our phones worked at Oak Mountain, but we left them in the tent and allowed the batteries to die. I love sitting around a fire and talking. It's magical. There is something hypnotic about the flames and the setting sun mixed with the blink of fireflies. I didn't partake of the s'mores. Who actually likes s'mores? Can I get a show of hands? I hate burned marshmallow on chocolate that won't melt and graham crackers that fall apart everywhere. What do I like? An oreo (oreos to be more honest). Classic. 

Tomorrow it's back to work. I'm hoping for a better scheduled week this week. Jared started the 10a-7p shift last week and I was all out of whack. I tried to wait to eat dinner, but it got too late for me and then I overate. Scout and I will just have to dine alone.