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During the mercifully brief period in which my Kindle was out of commission I was fortunately supplied with a dead tree copy of Packing for Mars: The Curious Science of Life in the Void, which I recommend highly to everyone with high school reading skills and a third-grader's appreciation for poop and pee and farts. There is a lot more to the book (I've loved every book I've read by her) as she reviews the history of problem-solving required to send people into space, but of course it was the egestion section that I found most delightful. Hey! The LJ editor thinks "egestion" is not a word, Mary Roach noted that it was a new word for her, and then three books later it appeared as if it were a regular old word everyone knows and understands in If Walls Could Talk by Lucy Worsley. That happens to me a lot. The first time I noticed it, I had just stumbled upon the word "plethora" a couple of days before my band teacher used the same word in conversation. That was about three decades ago and I estimate I've repeated the experience a handful of times every year since. Well.

I was almost completely unplugged this past week as I went on a camping trip with V's scout troop. We were returning to a site on the Little Miami river we'd visited earlier this year, and since they were packing up Thursday I'd asked Brian if he could join V and I once everyone else had gone home. His schedule is not predictable, so I was supposed to call him Thursday morning to make arrangements. Thursday morning I reached into my purse and withdrew half of my flippin' phone--it had broken at the hinge and was disinclined to function in any useful sense. Fortunately, another mom had a phone that worked and Brian did manage to get to the campsite in time to walk around for a while before we all drove to Lebanon (boyhood home of Woody Harrelson) to watch Ice Age 4 during a downpour. The plan was to build a fire when we returned, but we had to wait through another hour and a half of rain first. And then, with only soggy logs, a Worthington Gazette from March dug out from under my passenger seat, a Bic lighter, and an overwhelming desire to roast a weinie or three we made it happen. It was a night of wonders, as the tent stayed dry inside, too. Hot dogs for breakfast, and then we took a canoe trip down the river and drove home in time to dry everything out in the sunny backyard. I was pretty sure Brian would like this camping place (Morgan's) and the canoeing, and he did.

But now we're at the house, where the fridge has been empty for a month and I need to put things together for the next couple of weeks before we head out again. When we return it's almost time to start school, for which I have resolved to be VERY ORGANIZED this year. I mean it.



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