Camping with the Bedellios

What fun times my children have had with our dear friends camping! Here are some pictures of their latest trip to Burnt Rancheria, near Pine Valley. Wherever we ultimately end up, we hope these trips can continue. And, if I am ever again not pregnant or nursing or taking care of an under two-year-old, I might even join them. Oh, I know babies can camp, but I am terribly fond of sleep and hiking around without thirty pounds of Precious on my back and my parenting-of-babies strategies all involve electricity. Call me a wimp. Now do it to my face.



We call these three the triplets, because Gigi and the twins are born just one day apart and can entertain each other for hours, especially if mud is involved.




It must be some sort of camping directive: Boys who camp with their fathers shall be allowed and encouraged to poke at fire with sticks.



This trip was the debut of the zip line . . .



. . . it was also the debut of the rule, "All campers shall wear helmets when riding the zip line." Poor Andy collided with a tree on one of his trips down. How this happened I still do not really understand, but I know his dad caught it when he got home.