I am stealing this brief peaceful moment early in the day. The day before me is not one I look forward to, but one I must tackle with all the psychic strength I can muster. School starts next week and we must prepare for the change of pace and perspective. There will be resistance. Oh yes, there will be resistance.

Attila managed to take five consecutive days off work during the warm weather, for the first time in seven years. We took this turn of good fortune as a golden opportunity to strike forth into the wilderness. We packed our little green car to the roof with tents and bedding and food and cooking pots and headed for Pinery Provincial Park in Ontario.

We had a glorious time! The first night in the tent was so cold we barely slept. We arose to a lovely sunny day and enjoyed a sinful breakfast of bacon, eggs, and coffee with chocolate. We then sat about listening to the birds sing and watching the sun filter to the ground through the pine needles. There were young children riding bicycles everywhere. There was a constant parade of children and other campers riding and strolling along the maze of narrow dirt roads that twisted through the trees and hills.

After an enjoyable lunch of beans and wieners we donned our bathing suits and hiked down to the beach. There were hundreds of people at the beach. However, the beach stretches for great distances and a short walk found us a relatively quiet and isolated spot to spend the afternoon. "The Teenager" immediately headed into the water. She and Attila waded to the first sandbar and stopped to wave at me, the water lapping at their ankles. The water remained shallow for quite a distance from the shore, but they finally found themselves chest deep in the rolling waves. They waved and called, but I could not hear them above the sound of the crashing waves. They did headstands and swam about in the sun.

Attila returned to the beach to watch our belongings while I took a turn wading into the cold clear water under the big blue sky. I had not been swimming for over ten years. There was a time when I swam several miles, several times a week. The benefit of that had worn off years ago. It did not take me long to realize that I would have to work up to swimming a reasonable distance. So, I swam about for a little while and then just floated as "The Teenager" entertained me with her enthusiastic antics. She is very charming when she is not busy living up to the image of being a teenager.

Our day ended with a campfire, over which we grilled cheese sandwiches, hot dogs, and marshmallows. By ten o'clock a hush had descended on the park. Most of the children and many of the adults had retired to the warmth of their beds. "The Teenager" headed for her tent with her Walkman and her diary, her light went out after a very short time. Attila and I sat before the fire, happy in our thoughts and glad to be together. As the flames died to embers, we too sought the comfort of our tent.

Our days at the park followed in similar sleepy, unremarkable, and happy succession.

Now that we have returned home there is much to do. The camping equipment must be prepared for storage until another year and another trip. The tents were quite damp and had to be erected on the back deck to dry in the sun. We then brought them indoors and draped them over racks to dry thoroughly and prevent mildew. The piles of bedding and clothing used for the week sit in piles waiting to be laundered. Bags must be unpacked. The car is covered with pine pitch and filled with sand. "The Teenager's" duffel bags are filled with wet socks and towels and who knows what else.

Attila has returned to work, he expects to get one or two more days off before mid-November.

I am off now to begin inducing trauma on "The Teenager". In literal terms this means I will be making sure those wet socks and towels go into the washing machine. The path of true love is never smooth.