David's cheeks are burnt. Rose is exhausted. I have songs about peeling myself like a banana running through my head. We just finished a fabulous week at Camp Fire day camp.

Camp Fire day camp is good old fashioned camp. Making gak at the science table is a highlight. Same with playing scatter ball in the field (kind of like dodge ball but nicer.) We are in a beautiful setting with the light blue sky, dark blue Puget Sound, and the mountains all around us. You can spot chipmunks and owls. Really, we saw an owl as we were driving in to camp this morning. The kids weave lanyards--lots and lots of lanyards--sing loudly, go on small hikes, hand crank ice cream, pound leather, put mentos in coke to watch it explode, and write poetry.

I'm the poetry specialist. This year we made poetry monsters, went on a poetic treasure hunt, and wrote love poems to camp. I'm secretly teaching simile, metaphor, and concrete vivid details in small moments. Actually, what I'm secretly teaching is you have the power to see the world in a new way and share your vision. They totally get it and write some gorgeous poetry. This year I had no attitude problems. Everyone from the kindergarteners to the 6th grade boys jumped in. Ok, the boys tried to turn it into a joke, but then I took their joke and showed them how they could make it a powerful poem. (We ended writing metaphors about being stuck in Tacoma.)

David had a fantastic time. He was there with five school friends. He had his first ever camp overnight. He is currently burnt, dirty, and exhausted, and he can't wait to go back.

Rose had a more mixed experience. She was a CIT, so less play, more learning packets. She liked some of the shadowing, but she had critiques of the program. We are sorting which of her critiques are legitimate, which come from over sensitivity, and which from dehydration. Since she has three more CIT trainings for other programs this summer, she'll certainly be able to compare.

I want to give a big shout out to Tiger Lily, my friend the camp director, who volunteers to run this camp. Oh, did I mention all the staff and counselors are volunteers? David's counselor told me he took vacation from his paid job to come volunteer at camp. One counselor wrote a poem about melting into camp. I thought yes, I understand that. Yes.