Having Remy off at overnight camp has been easier this year, for me. I knew that for all his anxiety about leaving once he got there he would be enveloped in the fun of camp. And to an extent, that was that. This year I didn’t have a knot in my stomach once I knew he was ensconced, even for a day.
Still, getting the first letter home was pretty great. It was quintessentially Remy.
I do miss him.
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I believe a wonderful summer camp like Journey’s End is pretty magical. I am beyond happy that he’s there.
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I might be especially biased on this subject because it was during my summer as a camper at Tamarack Farm that I learned about Hampshire College, from my sister’s counselor at neighboring Indian Brook camp. She invited me to visit. I visited on a rainy weekend in October and fell head over heels in love with the place. I can’t believe you make such fateful decisions at 17. It was probably the single best decision of my life.
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Saskia requested popcorn with nutritional yeast for breakfast this morning. I’m going to reserve her spot at Hampshire for fall of 2026.
Meantime, on Friday she reached that critical juncture in any preschooler’s life; she turned three-and-a-half. She’s got months to call herself three-and-a-half, although she’s yet to totally grasp the import of the half. She does get this concept: four is next.
And she enjoyed a cupcake treat in her honor with her pal, Piper. Piper is six and pretty much—in Saskia’s eyes—perfect.
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While Piper and Saskia played, we made jam. I’m leaving this with an action shot of teenage boys stirring. This week, I promise to share the whole first-jam-making story. There’s little suspense, really, but we all felt inordinately pleased with ourselves.
