This Saturday we shall cram way too much stuff into our Subaru and the pop-up, and head up to Mammoth for our yearly week plus of bliss.

It's going to be different, though, going up with a broken leg. I won't be able to go anywhere by myself - and if everyone else is off, I'll be stuck in a chair with a book. Because the potential of really screwing up and hurting something major while up there is huge. I have enough problems walking on flat surfaces - a campground will be tricky.

But the pines are calling, the rush and tumble of the creek, the wind through the trees. Too many stars at night. Taking a nap in a hammock. Eating outside - why do even the most mundane foods taste better while camping? Sitting beside a morning fire with my coffee, enjoying the chill in the air. Watching sparks fly from the fire at night, while we wait for the flames to subside so we can toast marshmallows.

We'll be going up, all four of us. As the boys get older the vacation time with them becomes even more precious. I like to think we'll stay close as they grow up and move away, but I've seen the pattern in my family and unless we forge our own path to new relationships, they'll lead lives apart and we'll not be involved in each other's lives in ten, twenty years.

Ah, but why worry about the future now? Must be the godawful early morning. It's easy to be down about things when sleep is elusive...