post card from the edge, vol. 2

"when the going gets weird, the weird turn pro"--hunter s. thompson, by way of corywill...

oh, my sweet people. it's been a long week and a half. right now, i'd like to stare down a bottle of something you have to be 21 to buy, and sleep for 36 hours straight. in the last three weeks, i've made a cps call, put an employee on probation, and fired two people for smoking pot behind the cabins where small children sleep. i'm kind of over being in charge, for the moment. i'm about to run to chapel, and listen to the primary campers talk to God. that is amazing, and that is why i'm glad i am here. because, in the long run, it's not about the drama. it's not about people who won't act right, no matter how many incentives or threats i throw at their feet. at the end of the day, it's about those little kids, who sing and learn, and grown up to be us, and do the same thing for other little kids that we've done for them. case in point, a counselor who was on summer staff when i was 11 or 12 sent his baby girl to us this week, so we could do for her what he did for us. life is a wheel.

congrats to john james derkits III, who became a deacon on saturday. and congrats to laura jane for being the best seminary wife in the world.

i'm using my teaching time this week to catch up on correspondence, so be looking in your mailbox for a little something from camp crazy. life is good, and beautiful, even when it's hard and confusing. i remember that when i watch the sun set, and the stars come up, and it seems easier to remember it here.

i saw three shooting stars the other night. and with that, i'm going to go steal some adderall from a third grader.

mil besos--rmg

the (amazing and ) fabulous adventures of cat girl and swamp ass (her brother)

oh friends and neighbors, it's been a long week. i'm talking years long. last week was like a first date, and i had no idea what to expect. this week has been worse than my last date, which if you've forgotten, was three years ago, featured a creepy pony-tail man, and ended with me fleeing one of my favorite watering holes in austin in utter shame and terror.

so last week, i was reunited with an individual i never expected to see, again. cat girl was in my cabin for a weekend retreat when she was in third or fourth grade. i remember her because she talked incessantly about her cats and how much she missed them. this is not unusual for primary campers, since it's one of their first times away from home for any length of time. what was weird was just this camper. and, i'm embarassed to say, much to my chagrin, she was not only cat girl, she was smelly cat girl, all my gentle pleadings with the whole cabin to bathe and not return home smelling like a foot. i tried to bond with this child, and learned the lesson that not ever camper will be your favorite, and you will not be the favorite of every camper. oh cat girl, the wisdom you imparted...and literally changed my life. you freak me out a little bit, still, but i do love you.

imagine my suprise when i was doing registration last week, looked up and saw the face of cat girl, only this time, she was all grown up. she was also still unmistakenly cat girl. i was terrified that she was going to get eaten alive by the trampy girls, the popular girls, the scary girls, and the jocks. she thrived, proving my father's adage that it does, in fact "take all kinds". cat girl was asked to dance by the cutest boy on kitchen staff, in front of her cat girl entourage (because even though she was cat girl, she had a whole following...grace IS amazing), on his knees. and even though it was hard to watch her struggle through what may have been her first boy/girl dance, and because i kept tearing up everytime i looked at her little face, adoring this boy, and knowing that for just a moment, she was the girl every other girl wanted to be, i was happy for her, i was happy to know her, happy that she had been my little cat girl, and had come back to teach me another lesson about life. it was pretty cool.

she came back this week. i almost died (again) at registration. only this time, she brought her brother, swamp ass. he's this really tall kid who looks like he's been put together with paper clips and rubber bands, and pretty much lives in jeans, hiking boots, and graphic t's. he looks kind of like a napolean dynamite, minus the curly hair and glasses. now, you may think that we are cold-hearted individuals, when we make up names for people, but be honest with yourself--you do it, too. and when you have 110 kids in a camp session, certain attributes of certain children are much more recognizable than their name tags. it is a fact that this kid wears jeans every where he goes. and if it were a monetary issue, i would die before i ever made that a point of reference. it's not. i think he just really likes his jeans. it's also FREAKING HOT outside, and we play every day, for an hour. now, when one plays for an hour in shorts, one can work up quite the sweat, when one plays in jeans for an hour, one can work up a good case of what we like to refer to as swamp ass. i'll let you use your imagination. all i can say is that i hope the young man brought some gold bond with him, or can borrow some from his cabin counselor. in any event, he achieved a level of swamp ass at which everyone could marvel, much to our disbelief and horror. but that kid plays like no other. it might not be pretty, and it might look like he's actually having a grande mal seizure when he plays any and every game, but he has the best time playing, whether it's frisbee or dodgeball or counselor hunt. swamp ass plays his guts out. and i find it more and more probable that God's sense of humor trumps all, because when i found out that cat girl and swamp ass were brother and sister, i accidentally peed in the pool. it was just all too perfect. and i love them, in the midst of their weirdness and akwardness. and i wonder if God feels that way about us, too. it was an amazing moment on many levels.

so, cat girl and swamp ass, this post is for you. you were the face of Christ to me, this week. thanks be to God.

mil besos, and a long hot shower--rmg

postcard from the edge, vol. 1

" when true simplicity is gained, to bow and bend, we shan't be ashamed, and turn, turn will be our delight til we end up in the place that's right..." so goes the first week of camp with the campers in tow. the last three weeks have been so full of so many things. i think i've laughed and cried a little bit everyday. oh, and i had to get a tetanus shot today. i got a real beauty of a scrape all down my right shin when i fell out of my kayak, and since the guadalupe just isn't as clean as she used to be, nurse katy thought i needed to get a stick. my arm hurts, now, as well. but at least i won't be getting lock jaw anytime in the next ten years. or diptheria. it's good to have my bases covered. camp is a hoot. i saw a kid try to stick a whole water bottle in his mouth tonight. i have had to ask campers to put on more clothes, to stop touching each other, and to get off their cell phones. granted, i've had to ask that from a couple of my staff members, too, so i'm just thankful no one is pregnant, yet. what is it about freaking church camp that makes people want to do smootching around in the bushes? someone should bottle and sell that--they'd make a mint. i got to take one of my staffers to the er in kerrville, today. it was large. he's a funny kid. he actually leaned over at one point while we were waiting for the doc to read his x-rays, and (this was unprovoked, totally, i swear, because contrary to popular myth, i don't really talk about farting with anyone outside of close family and friends...) and farted ON me. not at me, not in my general direction, but ON me. oddly enough, we've been working on a nature trail on camp property and laying down cedar posts, which is exactly what this fart smelled like. and i told him so. he agreed. oh, and tonight, i had my first serenade. this is a very big deal at camp. my guys' staff came over and sang me a song before i went to bed. they sang me "drive on" by jack ingram. great song. i cried while they were singing, because i am a total push over for nice things. and they said they loved me when they left. it's good to be loved. my return key is stuck again, so i'll shut this day down. life is good. i'm glad i'm here. it's time for some advil for my arm. tomorrow is dance night, which translates into a huge dose of birthcontrol for yours truly. how any of us managed to become modrately functional adults after the horrors of adolescense is beyond me...i can already smell the old spice and the hormones, and the dance is still almost 20 hours away. geeze, oh man. oh, and congrats to esteban, who finished his first marathon on sunday. i love you! and happy late birthday to beano. i owe you a phone call. and you too, anna. and you too, moo-moo. mil besos--rmg