Another NY 4th

What a View

Go Mississippi Day 8

We Should Pack Up And Leave, Dear

Saturday morning was a blur. My alarm went off at 6:15 and the boys were already awake. Most of them were sitting up in bed, dressed and ready. I don't know if it was because they went to bed earlier or maybe they were excited to be going home but they used my alarm as the green light. I was getting up at 6:15 with the plan of getting them up around 6:45. We were going to the pavilion at 7:30 for pick up. The Fordham group had to be on the road by 8 am.

With the boys being ready early, we were on the move by 7. I loaded my stuff in the van and headed over to the pavilion. I had to make 2 or 3 trips back for different boys who forgot certain things in the dorms. It felt like the first day, running from the center of camp and back several times.

The kids all had autograph books where they could sign names, get addresses, etc. Some of the kids asked for mine and I was glad to give it. I don't expect any letters but it would be pretty awesome to get even one in the mail.

Before we knew it we were on the road. We left and headed to Sonic, where we got food on the way in (second thing on the last day reminding me of the beginning). Sonic took forever and we all spent the rest of the drive worried about making the flight.

We got to the airport and had 40 minutes to check in, check luggage, go through security and get to the area of the airport we needed to be in. All things ran smoothly and we got there with about 10 minutes to spare. We loaded the plane, took off without a problem, and landed in Chicago. Our flight in Chicago was delayed about 20 minutes or so. This gave us enough time to get some lunch.

Back on the plane and on the way to NY. The sky and the view of Chicago were really awesome. We made it to NY and grabbed our luggage. Only one parent was willing to pick us up and so the rest of us piled into two taxis. We made it back to the Bronx around 7:30. Even though I just wanted to get home, I spent some time with my group in the Bronx. We went out and bought some food, made a big dinner, and hung out in the backyard. It was a nice resolution to the trip. I finally got to my car around midnight and drove home. It was a scary drive and several times I thought about just pulling over and going to sleep. I won't start a drive like that so late on my own ever again. Lesson learned.

I got home and passed out. Sunday was ok because I talked to my parents and friends about the trip and was excited to show them things like my pillow and t-shirt. Monday and Tuesday were really hard and I missed camp a whole lot. This trip was amazing and it was one of the best weeks of my life. I know that may not be as apparent in these entries. They show a fun time but not an amazing time. It's hard to explain the heart of the trip, the feeling of it and what it all meant. Those are things I cannot write down. It is a trip you have to experience, like most things, to fully appreciate. Still, thank you for reading about it. It's hard to find someone who will listen to you talk as long as I have over these many posts. There is so much to reflect on and so much to list that I would need hours and hours to explain it to one person.

This, then, concludes my Go! trip posts. Back to regular blogging tomorrow.

The Aftermath of The Storm

So after last night's rant about how things really hit the fan all at once, today has passed. Surprisingly, I have made it unscathed.

Today I got the testing done and was back in the office by 1:30. We did not have to test all of the girls, but the traffic was bad enough that I decided to not make the trip to NY today. My dad got my uncle (his brother) to go to the golf tourney with him, and I got to get home early.

That was the good news.

I still have not been paid. I got back to the office to the good news of "We can leave at 2pm." With only 3o minutes to spare I quickly inquired about my paycheck. An hour later, after finally reaching someone at payroll, we were given this message "I was really busy and just did not get to it. I apologize but there is nothing I can do now. Cutting a check is a 3 department process and it is after 2 pm on a holiday weekend Friday. No one is here to do that for you. We should definitely have you a check next week." That last part was apparently supposed to be encouraging. Unfortunately, the word 'should' after 6 weeks of work keeps that sentence from meaning anything other than "I can't give you an answer that is at all definitive."

Luckily my mom is kind enough to lend me enough cash to make it through the weekend. I literally, other wise, would not have had enough cash to pay for gas. I actually dont even have enough money to afford a weekly train pass for work next week. I wish I could use that as an excuse and stay home, but I have too much to do.

At this point I am absolutely astounded at the incompetency. First my last name coming up twice in their system was too confusing (imagine enrollment and common last names). Second I am now told that, despite the urgency of the situation (an employee is owed 110 hours of back pay) our payroll contact was too busy this week to get to paying me. I can't imagine, and hope that this happens anywhere else. Sheesh.

GO Mississippi Day 7, Part 2

**Continuing from yesterday's post.

The last day at the waterway was similar to the prior day. There was a lot of tossing the ball and a lot of boys making diving catches, continuously mesmerized at their own incredible skill. I again wore a t-shirt (the same one, so as to not ruin another) while I was in the water. One thing to note about the waterway is the temperature of the water. It was in the upper 90s all week, and with the humidity, it was always "feeling" over 100. The water, then, was at it's coolest like a heated pool and at times just down right hot. It was very strange, and with pockets all over the place, a person could shift between the two extremes in seconds.

The trip back from the waterway was incredibly entertaining. A lot of the boys were Hispanic and Tim had taken 4 years of Spanish and is able to keep up about half of the time. The back and forth banter between him and the boys was hilarious. He would teach them phrases that he liked in English, having them explain how to say it properly in Spanish. And they would do the reverse. It was actually really nice to see him engaging them in another language and they really seemed to appreciate it as well.

Back at the camp we met a man who looked to be in his 30s. Father Tim told us, as we exited the bus with the man standing there, that he was a Fordham grad and has been helping at Glenmary for awhile. I thought it was cool to see someone still actively involved and was happy to have him there. We headed back to the dorms for showers and prepping for dinner. After dinner was the dance, and so the boys had a field say with some Axe spray, and it didn't take long before the place smelled like the inside of Hollister.

The boy who had had a few melt downs in the past 24 hours came up to me while everyone was showering and such and told me that another boy was crying. One of the staff members had her son at the camp. She would come every day to help and leave. This was his first year at the camp and so he was one of the younger boys. She had left for the day and, even though this happened every day, he was incredibly upset. He was lying in the corner of his bed, as far from everyone as he could be, with his face down in the pillow crying. I sat on the bed and asked him what was wrong. He told me he was ready to go home and wanted his mom to come back and pick him up. I hadn't seen him look anything but enthusiastic all week and was really surprised. Then, after some talking I found out the real reason for this sudden change. The. Dance.

The boy was on the younger side, as I said, and was incredibly pressured and upset over the whole asking someone to the dance, dancing with girls, etc. This was bothering him so much that with the dance only hours away, he couldn't take it and wanted to just skip the end of camp and head home. I can totally sympathize. As someone who is not terribly out going and someone who does not like to dance, I can remember how terrified I was of school dances as a kid. I told him that I hate dances too, that I did not have a date to the dance, and that I was not going to dance. I promised him that I had my camera and wanted to take pictures at the dance and that was all. If he could help me out, he could come to the dance and take the pictures with me and he wouldn't have to worry about dancing with anyone or having a date. It was a deal.

I got my camera together, gave the boys a 10 minute warning and walked out front. Next thing you know it, Fordham-Alum-Guy is taking over. He walks in and tells the boys they have 2 minutes to be out front. Further, anyone who is already done should be outside. We do this, too. It gets really hot in the dorm with the showers running, the heat outside, and then everyone running around. We usually get the boys to come outside and toss the ball around or play frisbee. I was still a bit thrown off that he would disregard what I had just said, without even saying a word to me, and take over in the dorm. We got the boys outside and I started taking some pictures, watching the current chess battle, etc. Next thing you know, I see a commotion. It turns out, some of the boys were off to the side and were throwing stones into the woods. Nearby is the line where the boys hang their bathing suits and towels. Someone, unfortunately, threw a stone and it hit a camper in the head. It was bad enough that he started bleeding and had to be brought into the nurse. Father Tim came over and yelled at the boys saying that they should know better. He had the ones who admitted to throwing the rocks (no one fessed up to being the one who hit the other boy) stand there outside the nurse's office and apologize to the injured camper.

It was time for dinner and I was upset. Things had been going so well, but ultimately, it is the counselors job to watch the kids. One of us should have noticed the rock throwing and in our lapse, someone got hurt. The boy was fine afterwards, and needed no real bandaging to stop the bleeding. It was still a black mark on the week, one that Patti made sure I knew. As we walked into the dining hall, I casually asked her how she was doing. She responded in a noticeable tone with "I was doing a lot better before this all happened." As if I didn't already feel guilty.

Dinner was pretty normal, the boy returned to his table, and we had our awards ceremony. As Patti began explaining the ceremony she mentioned that our counselors would be making remarks about each kid. So apparently we were not only awarding the kids with awards we made up but we also needed to comment on them. This is not hard but a little heads up (like the skit night) would have been nice. We got through the award ceremony and headed back to the dorms to pack. All of the kids were given time to make sure everything, after coming back from the waterway and showering, was away. All they were to have out was the sheets on their beds, and something to wear home tomorrow.

Fordham-Alum-Guy decided he wanted to really show me why I should not like him. He walked into the dorm and told the kids that they had 5 minutes to be ready. Now, he has no right to be going over us like this and giving them orders. He is there a day early so that, on our last night, he can take dorm duty while the counselors can hang out without the responsibility of having people stationed at the dorm. He has decided to run things his way from the moment he gets there and undermines all of the counselors there, including Zach, the local guy who has been at this camp since he was old enough to go there.

He tells the boys that once they are done to go outside, stand in a line shoulder to shoulder, and not talk. They are not being respectful and they need to be more obedient. I walked out front. All week long this was the sight of fun downtime. We had time to kill and so there was frisbee going and chess and stratego, kids would just be sitting in circles chatting, etc. Like Patti had done with the bonfire, this guy had sucked the fun out of things. It felt like school. The boys were silent, in a line, motionless. He stood in front of them with his hands behind his back, like a drill sergeant and continued to scold them. I had enough. I went to Zach, who had seen this guy before, and voiced my opinion. I explained that what we had worked, and that we know these boys, we've been with them all week, and we have our way of running things. This guy walks in and is supposed to be doing us a favor, and instead has completely replaced us and disregarded that we even exist. Zach, surprisingly, was in total agreement. I expected him to side with the guy, saying that we were too relaxed, or that this guy knows what works because he comes here every year. Instead he said the guy is a total ass and he has totally crossed a line here. He talked to Father Tim later that night, I was told, and the Fordham-Alum-Guy, got an ear full. For the most part, he stayed out of the way the rest of the night.

It was time for the dance. I walked in with my camera, and the boy who was nervous about the dance came right up and told me, "we are not here to dance. we are taking pictures, and thats it, ok?" I agreed, telling him that I would not leave him sitting here and we'd just hang out all night. He was on the dance floor before the first song ended. One of the female CITs grabbed his hand and that was the last time I saw him sitting. He was up and into the dance the rest of the night. I was thrilled. For the most part, all of the kids were too. After about 40 minutes of picture taking and wandering, I handed my camera to Zach and joined in. It just looked like too much fun, and I didn't care if I looked like an idiot or not. As with any activity here, we had a water break during the dance. I found that amusing. There were one or two slower paced songs and a few of the boys made good on having dates and did their best at slow dancing. They stayed about 3 feet from their date and rocked back and forth in place. It was awkward and cute and exactly what you would expect from 10 and 11 year olds.

The dance was exhausting and at the end of it all everyone was sweating. Patti had everyone sit and she explained how the next morning would go. We had our closing and it was off to the dorms. All the boys got ready for bed and soon enough, Fordham-Alum-Guy showed up to relieve us. Earlier I had expressed to Zach that we wouldn't even need him. That I wanted to hang out at the dorm that night because the next morning would be a blur and then we'd all part ways. I would get to go back with and spend time with my co-counselors after this but not the kids, so why not spend my last night with them instead. I really wanted to get one more shot at reading Pinocchio. Unfortunately, by the time we had our closing meeting with Patti and Father Tim, went through how the next day would be, expressed to them our gratitude for their incredible hospitality, and so on, it was late. I hung out for a bit but started dozing at the table. I knew people would be hanging out for a bit on their last night. They may even walk to the overlook, but I was too tired. I walked back to the dorm, but Fordham-Alum-Guy had worked his stern magic. The dorm was silent.

I set my alarm a little bit earlier for the next day. We would have to be on the road by 8 am and needed to have the kids at the pavilion by 7:30. As such, I was getting up at 6:15 (instead of 6:30) to make sure I was all ready to go so that I wasn't scrambling to pack and fill the car when I needed to be helping the kids get their things over to the pavilion. I walked around the dorm for a bit, thinking about the week, the first time I had walked through there, the first night, and so many other events during the week. I laid down and felt really upset. I knew that this may be the last time I spend the night here, come to this place, see any of these people, and so on. It had only been a week and yet it felt like I had been there for months. I dreaded the work day, the technology, the responsibilities back home, and so on. I wanted to wake everyone up and hang out and just try to put tomorrow off a little bit longer.

The next thing I knew, my alarm was going off. Time to go home.

picture key:

1. the waterway

2. Tim and Mary signing awards

3. Tim dressed for the dance

4. Jason

5. Zach

6. the clothesline where the boy was hit

7. Tim and Andrew doing their best Sheriff and Deputy

8. a glimpse at the color of the t-shirt I wore in the water which started out white

9. all of the counselors dancing in a circle

10. Zach and CIT chris

11. Ali and Andrew

12. Fordham-Alum-Guy and Chris

13. Patti and Heidi

14. Tim and Andrew looking a bit like the Beastie Boys

15. Giving a final farwell

The Perfect Storm

Tomorrow somehow compounded rather terribly. Somehow, the university found a way to get confused over two people submitting paperwork at the same time with the same last name. Despite the fact that one is male and one is female, two separate addresses, and one was applying as a student, one as an employee - they still were unable to get past this. 6 weeks after my first day and I have not been paid a dime. I love my job, and I say that a lot on here. It helps a lot when something like this happens.

I am assured that a paycheck should be made for me tomorrow. Tomorrow, however is not the typical pay day, as they are a biweekly system and we are at the off week. I was told if I checked online, it would listed the pay check that I would be picking up tomorrow. There is nothing online. By the time I found this out, there was no one around to inform.

On Tuesday I agreed to go test at the facility this Friday (tomorrow). My plan was to head to NY and if I could leave from testing, I would already be an hour into my trip and that would mean out of the city to avoid the congestion of traffic on a holiday weekend.

My dad called me Wednesday to ask if I could get time off to come to watch Tiger play at the golf tourney that is in our area tomorrow to which he somehow got passes to. The day of the passes: Friday. I found out that he had asked all of his friends, but on such short notice, no one could get off on a Holiday weekend. He called me figuring I could, and hoping that to be the case as the result of a no would mean going alone or not going at all. Unfortunately he was a day too late and I already committed to testing.

By volunteering for testing, and after realizing that I may not actually get paid tomorrow, I need to follow up with accounts during the day to make sure I have money in my bank account by the end of business tomorrow. Unfortunately, again, I will be offsite testing. At the facility I cannot bring in my cell phone, and if I leave, I have to go through security again. With this being a holiday weekend, even if we get out at 3:30, the people I need to talk to about getting paid may already be gone. Additionally, I may not make it back to the office in time to even pick up the check. You see, since this is my first check (after 6 weeks) it is a physical check. Only after the first will they do direct deposit.

You know what that means. I have to drive back into Philadelphia tomorrow after heading an hour towards NY, so that I can pick up my check because otherwise I literally won't be able to afford the gas to get me home. I am that broke.

Why am I that broke? Because 6 weeks ago when I was convinced to not bother financing my computer, I had the money then, I was sold on the idea that yes I would be down to a couple hundred dollars initially. But I also had my Go Trip coming up where I would not be spending any money for a week. By the time I returned, my first check would be waiting for me and it would replenish my funds.

I spent all of my graduation money on my Trip cost and the computer and 6 weeks later I have almost no money to my name. You know what that means. If I do not get paid tomorrow, and having no one to contact anyone to force them to write me a check by any means necessary, I will be unable to even go to NY for 4th of July weekend. With no NY trip, there would be no reason to volunteer to test in NJ tomorrow to make myself closer to my destination. Had I not volunteered I could have been around to sit down with people at payroll and finalize things. I also would have been able to go to the golf tourney with my dad.

So, somehow, everything converged on this day leaving everything up in the air, me broke, my dad without a friend to go to the golf match tomorrow, my friends in NY unable to make plans since they do not know if and when I will be coming, etc. etc. It's both incredibly frustrating and impressive at how much this situation is total FUBAR. Sheesh.

Go Mississippi Day 7

Go Out With A Bang

Friday, June 18th - Today was to be the last day of camp, or at least the last full day of camp. After getting the full run down, which no one was going to remember past the first or second event, I went to bed. The end of camp was bittersweet. I was so excited for the events of Friday but I was really getting upset at the proximity of the plane ride home and the return to 9-5.

I woke up Friday morning at the same time as I had the rest of the week. Today was filled with special events, one last trip to the waterway, and the dance. What could be better? To say that Friday was the most emotionally intense, draining, happy, and trying days of camp is an understatement. Father Tim had told me that Friday can be difficult, especially as the day progresses because kids who really love camp and have rough home lives will start to act out with the thought of going home in the minds. I felt like saying, yeah me too. I have a great home life, but spend a week outdoors doing something like this is hard to give up.

After my morning shower I headed to the dining hall, as I had all week, to grab my cup of coffee, fill my water bottle with ice (it'd be water in an hour), and head to the porch to write down the events of the day before. At 7:15 I flipped on the lights, got everyone out, walked down to the flag, did our "Rise and Shine" and were dismissed first (straightest and quietest!) into the dining hall. I was a little on edge this morning due to an added stressor. Yesterday (Thursday) I was told that the CIT, Chris who played the acoustic guitar at mass in the mornings, was told that I can sing and wanted me to lead all of the songs in mass, fitting in Let It Be (The Beatles) and Amazing Grace. I love to perform in my band, but I really get nervous when it's a more solo effort. My plan was to meet up with Chris after breakfast and talk him out of it. (Ok sure I was chickening out!).

Typically in these posts I skip breakfast in my posts because nothing notable happens. Everyone is too tired to do much more than eat. Today, as Father Tim warned, things were not as easy. The boy who had had the sloppy-joe-melt-down yesterday after being told he could not be an alter server and then 180'd after Father Tim's intervention was crashing again. I missed the start of this but essentially, his counselor Mr. Mauro scolded him for something and followed it with "and eat your cereal." Apparently the back to back combination of being yelled at and being told to eat something caused him to react as he had the night before. He put his head down and began crying, refused to eat his cereal or look at anyone. I am too empathetic for something like this and I started getting bothered by him being upset. Talk about poor timing too, Brother Craig was walking by and this triggered Mauro to tell the boy that if he did not stop crying and finish his cereal that Brother Craig would have to find another alter server. Mauro viewed this as the same situation as the night before and went for the same punishment. Surprise, Surprise when it lead to the same result. The boy refused to respond, lost his chance to alter serve, and then shut down.

Well, it was showtime for me. I had been there through everything yesterday and so Ms. Sandra, his other counselor, asked me if we could switch places. She would watch my kids if I would try talking to the boy. I agreed and took a seat across from him. He had his head buried on the table and so I did the same, placing my cheek on the table, looking at him. He looked up, crying, and I asked him to tell me what happened. After he described the situation I asked him why he wouldn't eat. He told me that Mr. Mauro made him too upset and he couldn't eat. Ms. Patti started to give her wrap up speech, telling everyone what was to come next and then moved into dismissing the female counselors and then the girls. We were running out of time and I knew if things didn't improve before we left the dinning hall that today that he would never rally.

I reminded him about what Father Tim said yesterday. That he says the mass, and that he makes the decisions. I told him that Father Tim and I are good friends and that if I talked to him he would let the boy regain his job of alter server. He didn't believe me at first and I had to convince him to look right at me and I repeated myself again. At this point, Patti had called the counselors of Swamp. The boy started to eat. I told him he had to eat 4 big spoon-fulls. If he did I would go talk to Father Tim right away. He ate them like he was eating ice cream. It was time for the boys to get up and walk back, and he waited until they all passed before getting in line and trailing a bit, tears still in his eyes.

I stood up to go talk to Father Tim. There are 6 male counselors and without me, the 5 others are more than capable to handle the campers. Patti stopped me and asked me where I was going. I told her that I needed to talk to Father Tim about the boy and the alter server situation. She very sternly told me to go back to the dorm and that she would go talk to Father Tim in a very "I am the authority here" voice. I walked back half mad because of what was on the line here. I wanted to make sure today went as smoothly as possible, for all of the campers, and for myself. It was my last day too, and I wanted to have a lot of fun. A dilemma this early would surely drag through the day.

I got back to the dorm and because the boy had been lagging a bit, still upset over breakfast, another counselor yelled at him. Already shaken up, he got back to the dorm and went back into turtle-mode in his sleeping bag. I spent my 10 minutes of getting washed up and ready for mass trying to convince him to please get ready so I could go talk to Father Tim for him. I knew this would go on all day and I didn't want that for either of us and now I was more determined than ever to make sure Father Tim knew to let this kid do this. I know it could read like he was a spoiled brat but that isn't the situation at all. He had his moments of being a trouble maker during the week but certainly not more so than anyone else. Unfortunately, he had a harder time taking the criticism and often he would either not listen initially, sparking a more harsh disciplinary response, or he would just shut down.

I told the other counselors I needed to go talk to Chris because that was the plan all along. I could also use that as my excuse for leaving the boys and going to the pavilion early to talk to Father Tim. I showed up and said, in apparently a more stern voice than I thought or am used to having, that I was not doing the singing. Chris didn't even question me once and instead said ok but can you help with the music and play the tambourine. Sure thing. I went to Father Tim and wanted to just add my two cents to what Patti had already said. Brother Craig was there first, cutting me off before I got to Father Tim, stating that the boy acted out twice and lost this opportunity twice and he felt that we shouldn't give in on this. I told him my opinion on the situation and luckily Ms. Heidi, the other camp head (next to Father Tim) completely agreed with me. I brought this to Father Tim and he was completely unaware of anything past Mauro telling the boy that he could not do it anymore. It turns out, Ms. Patti had no intention of talking to Father Tim. The campers were entering the pavilion by now and I went over and told the boy that Father Tim was looking for him to alter serve. He, once again, bounced back. The entire time he was at mass he was beaming.

After mass it was time to get into our bathing suits, tennis shoes, and head to Field A. We were having the camp games. First up was a mock-relay race. One counselor went about 30 yards opposite their group, with each group lined up next to each other in relay race formation. When the "race" started, each child ran to the counselor who then sun screened the kid. Essentially the goal was to get all the kids sun screened and make it a little more fun. Next was the pringles race. Each team had to have every member run to the other end, eat a number of pringles, be able to whistle, and run back. Counselors had to eat 10 pringles, campers: 5. Let me tell you, it is really really hard to eat 10 pringles fast and next to impossible to whistle before you swallow it all. We got killed. Next up was the "soak the counselor". One counselor went at sat at the 30 yard mark. At the other end, in the front of the line was a bucket filled with water and a giant sponge inside. Each person would soak the sponge, run down, wring it out over the counselor's head, and run back. I was not elected as our counselor, and instead my female counter part got the job. I wanted it because it was getting really hot. Next was another relay race where you would have to jump rope 10 times.

At the end of the relay races we all took a much needed water break, had popsicles, and then got back in line. It was time for the tug-of-war competition. The 3 groups were paired and 3 winners emerged. GR8 and Toad Camp J were 2 of the 3, with The Little Rascals, having defeated the previously Undefeated and our Rec rivals Hamburger Helpers Of The Future. They had GR8 and TCJ face off first, with GR8 taking the victory handily. Now to give you an idea of our athleticism, we hadn't won a single relay race, coming in last in all of them. We fell to GR8 almost instantly. Still, the Rascals had defeated a previously undefeated team and come in 2nd overall. Next it was time for the counselors tug-of-war. It was guys vs. girls and the guys had all schemed to drop the rope on the count of 3, causing the girls to all topple over. On 3 both sides dropped it. Apparently they had the same plan. We decided to have a second round since both sides had essentially forfeited and the kids were mad. Unfortunately for the girls, they didn't think we would stick with our plan. Oh, and they fell hard! It went over really well with the campers, too.

The last even was the waterballoon toss and I was paired with my rival counselor, but also partner in Dorm Duty, Mr. Andrew Gorman. We made it to the final 3. They had us about 25 feet apart at this point. It was two groups of campers and us. In. The. Bag. The first group made a shorter toss and it popped. The second group surprisingly made a successful toss. Apparently I got nervous, and before I could even swing my hands back I popped the balloon in my hands. I insinuated that I had thrown the game to the other counselors and staff without letting the winning campers notice what I was trying to say. In actuality, the balloon really and unexpectantly just burst in my hands.

We all headed up to the pavilion for lunch. We had planned to do some slip and sliding (the real purpose of getting all the kids into their suits in the morning) but games took too long and it was only about 40 minutes until lunch. Rather than get them soaked and have to get them changed before eating, everyone just decided to play volleyball or foursquare or toss the frisbee while waiting on lunch. Lunch today was PB&J and carrots.

The boy with all the recent dining hall dilemmas, well he loves PB&J and pounded two sandwiches. When it came time for the veggie on the table, he had no interest in carrots. I hate carrots as well and again sympathized at the unfairness of being forced to eat foods that you may dislike. Having had success earlier, Sandra asked me to talk to him. We switched seats and I only had to ask the boy once. I told him that I hate carrots too. They don't taste like anything and they're too crunchy. Sandra found this method to be unproductive and almost cut me off. I continued saying that they're good for you, they don't taste gross, and if you dip them in ranch, you can get a few down easily. I asked him to eat 3 for me and without an argument he did just that.

After lunch was our last rest period before heading to the waterway.

**Tonight's blog is getting long and there is still a lot to talk about. I am splitting Day 7 into two posts (it's just like the HP movies!)