Random Stuff in Probably - Not Definitely - the Last Camping Post

 1. Remember my post on my chaotic medication set-up? Yeah, some pictures have disappeared like they keep doing because Blogger sucks but I'm still too scared to move to Wordpress, but you get the idea. Well I bought some cute pill organizers and fixed it up, and for the most part it's working very well. Throwing the pill organizers in my ziploc bag of medication for the week was not a good plan, however, and half a minute's thought would have confirmed this, but I was stressed about camping and didn't think about it, so here we were.

So the very first night I pulled out the nighttime pill organizer and it fell apart and there were pills everywhere on the ground. I gave a 'it's camping' shrug and picked most of them up and put them back in the organizer, figuring I would have forgotten that they were dirty by the next time I had to swallow them. Fortunately they're all pretty distinctive in appearance so they were easy to sort back into proper order. My one med I take one and a half pills, and a couple of the half pills were too ground into the dirt to bother with. It wouldn't be a big deal to miss the half for a couple of nights, and Eve and I speculated that we could just end up with an anti-depressed raccoon or two wandering around - like Cocaine Bear, but different.

The morning one only spilled inside the bag. Every morning I would dig my hand in to the bottom of the bag and see what kind of handful I came up with. Once it was the exact pills I needed. If we go next year I will bring my old, less-cute, more-securely-closing organizer.

2. We often play bocce ball on the beach. Each team of people throws three balls, and whoever is closest to the placer ball gets a point. We played three girls against three guys, and with the guys we had to measure who was closest by centimeters. With the girls it was by three feet or more. Oh well, we have other talents. 

3. We often play Washers at campfire. Collette started thinking that we'd played so much that it was getting too easy, so she changed it to Backwards Washers. It was extremely exciting when one went in.

4. I used up the last piece of ham making lunch on the last beach day, and it was inexpressibly satisfying.

5. This was a first - the first night we went to the beach, we couldn't see the stars, but the moon was so crazy bright it was almost like daylight.

6. On our first beach day, Eve saw a pair of sunglasses buried in the sand at the bottom of the lake. I dug them out and they were good quality and looked great on her (we went out swimming again and she said 'can you hold these so I don't lose them while I dunk? Ha, that's what the last person should have said') The next day I was walking to the beach and found a t-shirt a little ways back in the trees that was covered with sand and looked like it had been there a while. I washed it and it fits her perfectly. If we'd stayed a few days longer we figure Sandbanks would have provided an entire outfit.

7. We ate a fuckton of Pringles and Twizzlers, two things that I have found only taste good on the beach. Usually I try to get a family picture of everyone. This year I think I only got one of the Walshes, and only because they all had Twizzlers.

8. My little washstand set-up worked really well for the most part, but the thing I loved most about getting home was not having to balance my contact case on the water jug.

9. We don't take Lucy camping. This is admittedly because it would be stressful for us, but I think it would also be stressful for her - we took her to a cottage once and when I went in the water she whined and paced on the dock the whole time. She would bark her head off any time she wasn't with all of us, and it would be a bad scene. But our friends brought their dog Lynzi, and Eve loves her, but she's a little more standoffish than Lucy, except now and then when she is feeling more friendly.

10. The first night I was awake for hours. The bright moon through the tent window made it a little more bearable. 

The second-last night I crawled in the tent, got onto my air mattress - usually a time when I felt the most dissatisfied with camping, while being too hot, too dirty and too uncomfortable compared to how I usually go to bed. But on this night I suddenly had this immense feeling of contentment, sleeping basically outside, a little out of my comfort zone, with so many people I love close by. But I still couldn't fall asleep for another hour - I am who I am. 

Reading at Camp

 This is what everyone was reading on the beach. I would take a picture of them and then tell them whether I had read their book or not, which was super fun for everyone and not obnoxious at all.

Rachel with The Lord of the Rings, which I have not read. Here she is vexed that she finally got through the Appendix and found...another Appendix.

Also Rachel: Fahrenheit 451, which I have read, and had brought the same book with me. Eve found it as a used book at the cute little bookstore down the street from her house at school, and asked me if she should read it. Out of that one, Brave New World and 1984 she liked Fahrenheit 451 the best - it had the least casual racism.

Vivian: The Secret History. I have read it, and didn't really like it, but I didn't mention that until after she said that she wasn't really liking it either. I liked The Goldfinch, Donna Tartt's next book, much better. Both books seem to be pretty polarizing, so if you're thinking I'm nuts for either of those opinions you're not alone. You're wrong, but not alone (hee hee).

Logan: Something by Brandon Sanderson, which I have not read. I have a vague memory of Brandon Sanderson being a dick online at some point, but only vague.

Melanie: John Dies at the End, which I have read and loved, but it is extremely bizarre and I have never met anyone else reading it that I didn't recommend it too, so I may have squealed a little. 

Ben: Gardens of the Moon, which I have not read. Apparently it has high magic, which doesn't really interest me, and an unusual plot structure, which does.

Janet: The Wall of ...what? Does that say Winnipeg? It does. The Wall of Winnipeg and Me. Obviously I haven't read it. What does that title even mean? Oh, the Wall of Winnipeg is a football player. Okay then.

Dave: The Reluctant Barbarian, which he picked up because it's by a local author. I have not read it.

Caitlin: The God of Endings, which I have read, and recently, and I found it randomly by circuitous means, so I was a little freaked out when I saw it on the picnic table. I loved it, and Caitlin is liking it as well.

Eve: Brackenbeast, the second in a trilogy by Kate Alice Marshall that I loved and gave to her because it involves palindromes, and Eve is my favourite palindrome. It is for young readers but is not simplistic or shallow. She's going to take the third with her to save for an October read.

What did I read at camp? Nothing, basically. It's a little weird - many people take a vacation to read, and I seem to take a vacation from reading, except not really because I love reading, and at home I read for at the very least an hour a day. Maybe it's the ADHD - when there are people around I can't focus enough. I read a few pages of a library ebook in the tent one night on my ipad, but I have terrible carpal tunnel and it hurts my hands to hold it up. I read a few pages of the first story in The Best Horror of the Year: Volume Fourteen edited by Ellen Datlow. I read a few pages of Fahrenheit 451. But mostly on the beach I talked to people or went in the water or watched the water, and around the campfire I talked to people and stared at the fire. 

The campfire readers:

I've read eight books since we got home, so... at least I remember how? 

Go Confidently in the Direction of the Comfort Station

 Eve made a shocking realization on this camping trip. We had always assumed that Matt had a map of the park in his head, because he has a really good sense of direction and we generally can't find our way out of a paper bag. But while they were walking back to our site after a campfire, he took them the completely wrong way, and at some point she realized that "he doesn't actually really know his way around - he just doesn't care!"

This didn't make me feel entirely okay about the fact that he explained to me where the water tap was multiple times and then drew me a literal picture in the dirt and I still kept not being able to find it, but it made it a little better. Also, when he was telling Eve how to get to Margot and Michael's site I told her a better way and told him his way was dumb because it goes further than you have to and then doubles back (you can tell the one person in our family who doesn't get shredded feet at camp). Of course, then he said "talk to me when you can find the water tap", which was fair.

We don't have a group picture for every year we've camped, but we have one for most. When we started, it was taken with an actual camera. Since we have phones and have discovered that Eve has freakishly long arms or something else that makes it possible for her to take really good selfies, Eve is the designated Group Picture-Taker. This year the picture had to be taken the night after Ben and Melanie got there and the night before Michelle left - the one night everyone was there and it wasn't thunderstorming. Eve had come back from the beach and showered and was having some quiet time in her tent and I had to summon her to the Dinner and Campfire Site to take the picture. This, in turn, put into play the time when everyone has to be corralled for the picture - people start shouting NO ONE GO TO THE BATHROOM and NO YOU CAN'T GO PLAY D&D YET and TRY TO LEAVE THIS SITE AND WE'LL TAKE YOU OUT AT THE KNEES. Then it takes an ungodly amount of time to get everyone situated so you can see everyone and Eve starts shooting.

Eve was a total trouper this trip. She has gut issues and skin issues and doesn't really drink (not opposed to it, but the gut issues mean she might get a nice buzz from one drink or just feel immediately nauseous for six hours). She reacts hugely to bug bites, had the same insomnia I did the first night but in her it precipitated a panic attack and we had to go for a little walk at 3 a.m. She was probably extremely ready to go home after night three or four but she said she was fine because she knew I wanted to stay. And, like me, one of the reason she likes camping is how camping makes you fucking LOVE your house when you get home. Like, this amazing house! So roof-ish, and wall-having. So indoor plumbing-ful. She said "I love my room. It's so ... inside."

She's so much fun to have around. We have two heavier fancier folding chairs and two lighter less-fancy ones. One night I said I might take a less-fancy one because carrying the heavy one the night before had hurt my shoulder. One of the lighter ones was set up in the kitchen shelter with towels drying over it, and Eve said I should just take the other one, which didn't make sense because she always takes a lighter one so I knew she wouldn't want me to take her chair. I looked at her weirdly and she said "what? Dad doesn't care." I kept looking at her weirdly and she finally said "oh, ME. Forgot about her."

We had a completely vegetarian group meal one night, which I think is a first. Ratatouille, potatoes, corn, Impossible Ground Beef meatloaf and cherry crumble. Matt mentioned to Mark, who was cooking the crumble, that the fire was going to be really hot under where the pie plates were. Mark looked undecided for a minute and Eve said "don't listen to him. He's just trying to plant a doubt in your mind that you'll be unable to shake". 

Tony is our group sommelier and cocktail expert, so he eschewed the classless Giant Plastic Jug O Booze we all went with and mixed classy glass bottles of Paloma, Mojito, Old Fashioned and Negroni, which you poured over ice and added Club Soda to. 

Without Tony we would just be beasts in the wilderness. 

Power, Sleep, Walk

 So a few things that were different this year that made camping better:

POWER

For years, I've been renting a battery pack from my CPAP supplier to power my CPAP while camping. I've tried going without a couple of times, and it's terrible - I wake up multiple times, my mouth is sandpaper-dry, I nearly fall asleep trying to drive home. The battery pack was okay, not awesome - I could get a couple of nights out of it and then we'd have to go charge it at our friends' electrical site (the ones who had a trailer and then a tent with an air conditioner - someone said how did they not know about tents with air conditioners and I QUITE CONCUR. The funny thing is, they didn't bring it this year because the mom thought it wouldn't be that hot, and the daughter (who is like me thermo-regulatorily) was very not impressed.

This year, I had gotten a new CPAP in June. When I called my supplier to book the battery backup, they informed me regretfully that the battery backup wouldn't be compatible with the new machine. While this was better than the time they sent me with one whose cord wouldn't connect to my machine properly, it was bad news. I told Matt I wasn't sure I'd be able to go. He said we would buy a battery backup. It was expensive, and we probably should have bought it years earlier since it would have paid for itself by saving us the battery pack rental fee every year, but it ROCKS.

It's called the Jackery Explorer 500 (Angus said "did you get the most macho one you could find?" I said I couldn't find a pink one). We got the DC adapter cord but held off on the solar panel because it was very expensive on top of the very expensive this already was. We did a lot of calculating about watt-hours, but honestly we weren't sure how long we were going to get out of it. I used my CPAP all night every night for five nights, we recharged our cellphones multiple times, and I recharged at least one fan every day. At the end of the trip it was still at 39%. This after I yelled at Matt (humorously) for using it to power the air mattress pump the first day because I thought we should save it for the CPAP, and when the air mattress was blown up and it was still 99% I said well if we blew up 99 air mattresses it would be dead, and Eve said it was already at 99% just from sitting the few days after I charged it. Plus we'll have it when tornadoes knock out our pwoer now, which is, you know, good while being terrible. 

SPEAKING OF FANS AND AIR MATTRESSES

I finally bought myself a double height air mattress this year, to see if it would make getting up in the morning and any time I had to pee in the night less uncomfortable and humiliating. AND IT DID.

Look at it. Look how glorious it is. Look how it shames Matt's puny, flat, condemned-to-crawl-on-its-belly-like-the-serpent-in-Genesis mattress in comparison. I wish I'd bought it years ago.

Last year I had my tiny fans, which made the hot nights bearable, but only just. This year, when one of my fans died, I couldn't find the exact one to re-order, so I tried ordering another one. This turned out how things often do for me, as illustrated in this post. It was a little too big to carry to work comfortably, BUT I realized right away it would be amazing for camping (then I realized that CAMPING FAN is right in the description, can't get anything past me for more than four or five days) because it had a light and a hook on the bottom so you could hang it upside down from the hook in the tent ceiling and angle it down. 

It also lasted for more like twenty hours, rather than the three the little ones last. So basically the whole sleeping experience was considerably more comfortable. Also, sorry if this is TMI, but one fun thing sleep apnea does, in addition to starving your brain of oxygen, is increase urine production, so you have to pee a lot even if you don't drink a lot. So I had to get up fewer times in the night, which is a little thing but a nice thing.

FOOTWEAR

Footwear is always a trial. I have terrible feet - plantar fasciitis, blisters - and ever since my sort of messy c-section with Angus all of that travels right to my lower back. I also have tight ligaments and unless I stretch a lot regularly everything gets pulled out of whack and my knees and hips hurt too. Some kind of pain is generally just a sort of background music the whole time I'm camping. I try to wear my running shoes to walk to the dinner-and-campfire site at night, unless it's too hot and they suffocate my feet. To walk to the beach I wear old sandals that can get destroyed by sand and water. This is terrible for my feet, which are usually getting ripped apart by the end of day two, and for my back and knees.

This year Eve and I were shopping with Zarah and Sophie and walked by the Crocs store. Eve had wanted Crocs for her Hamilton house for taking out the garbage and other quick out-of-the-house times, but she couldn't find any traditional Crocs in her size. So we both ended up buying Croc flip flops.

They weren't a hundred percent better for my back and knees, but they were a little better, and they WERE a hundred percent better for my feet - not a single blister or friction sore. Plus they could just be rinsed off, and I could wear them into the (kind of gross) shower. Regular flip flops are too flat, and if I'd known Crocs made them, I would have bought these years ago.

Eve's, which she has bedecked to make them cuter than mine, which is okay because they're the same size as mine so I can steal them

Stomach Stuff

 Before more camping notes, I wanted to report back on having to take my mom to her colonoscopy Thursday morning. Some of you may remember how it went when I took her for bloodwork last November and understand my trepidation. My mother does not enjoy fasting, and this was a whole order of magnitude over bloodwork fasting. 

Naturally everything went swimmingly and she only criticized my driving once, and not even when I sort of almost got us hit by a bus (to be fair, she may not have noticed that).

The last time I got colonoscoped I went to a small hospital. The last time I took my mom it was a bigger hospital. This was a small, very shiny, state-of-the-art seeming clinic. Everything was clean and bright. There was a big screen tv flashing all the impressive statistics about the place. The only note I had was about saying something like "We find adenomas in 54% more patients than other clinics", which I assume means they have better equipment and find things that are smaller, but taken another way does not sound good AT ALL. 

Speaking of eating and not, the body positivity part of this post of Sarah's struck me hard. Refer back to America Ferrara's 'women can't win' speech in the Barbie movie. For decades we were supposed to feel bad about our bodies, and now we have to feel bad if we feel bad about our bodies? Of course I am grateful for the pushback against diet culture, diet culture is stupid, I love that people like Aubrey Gordon are pointing out the inaccuracies and hysteria surrounding the obesity panic. But I was born in the seventies and sometimes I DO wonder if being thin would feel better than lemon curd cheesecake tastes. Sometimes I wish fewer parts of my body rested on other parts of my body. 

I have done my best not to pass any of this bullshit on to my daughter - I can't remember who said it, but I read somewhere that one of the worst casualties of diet culture is the relationship between countless mothers and daughters and holy shit, does that ever ring true. I asked my daughter when she was a teenager how she felt about her body and she said "I don't worship it or anything, but we're homies". Then a year or two ago she went out for dinner with her friends and texted me that the waitress had come to clear their plates and said "wow, you guys were hungry!", and her friends were appalled and insulted that she was appetite-shaming them, but "you raised me to be so secure around food issues I didn't even notice". I cried a little, and also took this to mean that now and then I can complain a little about how fucking fat I am without scarring her for life. 

Sometimes when I'm getting dressed I put on something that doesn't feel comfortable or flattering right then, and I wonder for a second if I should just force myself to wear it. I'm not sure why - because fuck the notion of 'flattering?' Because if I'm not ashamed of my body I shouldn't care what I wear? It doesn't make a whole lot of sense. I have sensory issues, and sometimes an item of clothing will feel okay one day and not the next. I'm pretty sure it's not a triumph over diet culture to march myself around feeling uncomfortable. 

A couple of weeks ago Eve and I walked Lucy over to my parents' place and were having a drink out on the front step where it's shady, and one of Eve's friends was driving by with her girlfriend and the girlfriend's new puppy, so they stopped to show us the puppy. They took a picture of Eve and I with the dog and when I looked at it I was horrified by how bad I looked. Then I started to think about how when I see a bad picture of me I think "oh okay, I forgot that I'm hideous, I should remember not to walk around expecting people not to gag at the sight of me", but when I see a good picture I don't think "oh sweet, I'm hot now, cool cool cool". Years ago I wouldn't be able to think about it this rationally, I would just starve myself for a couple of weeks and then not be able to keep starving and feel shitty about myself. 

So I'm not throwing body positivity out with the bathwater. But it needs to stay in its lane.

The French Woman and The View

The place we've been camping for ten years is Sandbanks Provincial Park. It's in Ontario, but a lot of people from Quebec camp there, because it has the best beach for miles (kilometers) around. Any time we're there, probably eighty percent of the other campers are Francophone. 

And my goodness, I am not down with cultural stereotyping, but by all accounts (not all, my account and my friends', so, like, a couple dozen accounts at best) they are a surly bunch. I smile at everyone I walk by at most times, but even more when we're at camp, out in a beautiful natural setting, and united by our messy beach hair and loads of lawn chairs and coolers -- should we not perhaps exchange a fraternal glance? Apparently not. I would be left feeling kind of dumb, slightly hurt, but mostly just confused.

No one is obligated to smile back, of course. At a certain point, though, it just became compulsive to see if the pattern would be maintained. The few people who smiled and said good morning or hello or stopped to admire our friends' dog? All English-speaking. 

What were the rules, I wondered? Could they tell I was an Anglophone? Did they not smile at each other, either? Were they just too reserved and sophisticated? Was it me specifically? I experimented with not smiling at anyone, but it felt wrong, so I just got used to the routine. I did think of my friend Janis telling me about her father-in-law who would go out on New Year's Day and say "Happy New Year!" to everyone he met, and if they didn't reply he'd say "Well go to hell then!" cheerfully, but I didn't do it. 

The first full day we were there, everyone got a bit of a later beach start than usual - some people went for a walk on the dunes, Eve and I were awake until past three a.m. so we slept in, and the result was that we weren't down as early as usual to set up our shelters. Our friend Michelle was there first, so she set up with lots of room for the rest of us. Then she texted just before we got there that a large group had set up right behind her. Okay, that's allowed. When we got there, it did seem a little weird, since they had one of those huge four-post beach canopy things, and there wasn't a huge space behind Michelle, and there were other areas open on the beach. But whatever, we set up a couple more shelters and got on with our day.

Then when the last family in our party showed up and started setting up, a woman from the group behind came up and asked them if they could not set up their tent there because it would interfere with her group's view. We all stood there a little flummoxed by the borderline audacity - they could have set up closer to the water! Their shelter wasn't even pegged down, they could just move it! We would never in a million years ask other people to move, that's not how any of this works! - but my husband, who is polite and conciliatory, found a spot so we would be more of a crescent than a half circle, and we went on with our day. It was only really worth mention because we rarely run into disputes with anyone on the beach.

In their defense, it's a heck of a view

But for the rest of the week, obviously, any time someone put something down in front of you you would have to say "But my view!", and if you were standing in front of someone you would say "oh pardon me, am I blocking your view?" And Eve coined the best phrase, which she said Michelle should have used since she was there first and they set up directly behind her - "Bitch, I AM the view." If I'd seen them again I would have thanked them for the days of amusement. 

This dude blocked my view AND didn't smile back at me when I went past him to get to the water. Hmph.

Because this might be coming off more mean-spirited than I mean it to, if you need a chaser please enjoy this post where I almost asked a Montreal waitress to marry me, and this picture of our dear friend Dan who lives in Quebec and can tell me to fuck off out of his view any time. 

I Came, I Camped, I Conquered

 Every year for a few years now we say "this might be our last year". This statement becomes more and more likely to be true - the kids are older and have their own stuff going on, we're older and less amenable to sleeping in a tent, Matt's traveling EVEN MORE in the summer now. So of course this might have been the year I loved camping the most (apart from missing Angus terribly). We stayed five nights, the longest by one that we've ever managed before being chased home by weather, and while usually I'm amply ready to head home, this time I felt like I could have stayed days longer.

Partly it was because it wasn't sweltering hot all the time. Partly it was my glorious new double-height air mattress and the battery pack we had to buy. Partly I had improved the footwear situation somewhat. 

We got there Tuesday, the same day as one other family and the one single person, with two other families arriving the day after us and the last family two days later. We're usually behind by at least a day, and it was kind of nice not feeling like everyone was already there in full camping mode while we were lagging behind. Also, the other family invited us to forego the hot dogs we were going to have and join them for grilled salmon and potatoes with salad, so that didn't suck. It was kind of nice having a smaller campfire the first night while acclimatizing. 

The first full day was a perfect beach day, but when I emerged from our tent in the morning the air was not cool, but pleasant, rather than being a wall of heat. Rain was supposed to come overnight and intermittently the next day, but we just had a nice pattering rain shower overnight and the next day was lovely again. 

Thursday was the first night everyone would be there, and the night we were doing our group dinner - shredded Mexican beef sandwiches, charred corn salad with cilantro lime vinaigrette and molasses baked beans, and a watermelon vodka cocktail. 

We were on the beach at around three when suddenly the radar said 100% chance of rain at four. None of the promised rain had materialized so far, but the sky was looking rather ominous, so we packed up our beach encampment early and one guy, who we mock often and mercilessly for all the redundancies built into his packing, soundly beat us about the metaphorical heads and shoulders for our hubris by setting up two big shelters that basically covered our campsite for the evening.

We did manage to get everyone fed, and then it started thundering and lightninging and pouring. We all huddled together and drank stuff and laughed a lot and were happy not to be alone in our tents waiting for the rain to pass. There was a brief tornado warning and then a severe thunderstorm warning, but there was no wind, so we didn't feel unsafe, just soggy. Eve did crawl into her tiny cozy tent eventually, but was happy to have people nearby. Oh, we hadn't actually managed to feed everyone, because the last kid and his girlfriend arrived late after work, and still made their way over to join our damp splendour, which was quite impressive I thought. 

After two hours, the rain passed and some people went to bed and some of us went down to the beach to look at the stars. And that was the last bad weather we had until we left on Sunday.

I will add more detail and pictures later (you know I'm going to milk this for all its worth) after I catch up on all your blogs and do eight more loads of laundry.

(First day, when we were still clean and pretty)

Camping Report: Why We Keep Going

We keep going because I love the parts I love more than I loathe and fear the parts I loathe and fear. I hate being hot and sweaty. I hate going to bed dirty (at camp I get a basin of water and wash as much as I can in the dark, but I have to just go into denial about my feet and lower shins because there is no way to get those clean until we get home. I mean, I guess I could keep a bottle of water and a foot towel by the door of the tent, but even I'm not that anal. Hmm, now that I think of it, maybe I am that anal and just never came up with this solution before - making a note for next year. I hate not being able to do my hair. In past years I would shower every day and wash my hair every second day and dry it in the comfort station. This was cumbersome and didn't generate great results anyway. The stupid-hot year I realized there was no point showering because the showers are a set temperature that isn't hot enough for hot water lovers and isn't cool enough for heat haters, and it was not refreshing in the least. So this year I showered maybe twice and didn't wash my hair at all and didn't feel that much worse overall. 

The parts I love: That the whole family is all together for a few days, with our really good friends. We sleep in a tent together, we get up and get ready for the beach and go to the beach together. 

The pattern of our days is delightfully simple. I don't sleep too late because the tent gets hot. We get up, we have breakfast, we sit around for a bit, we pack for the beach, we go to the beach, we swim and hang out and read, we get ready for dinner, we have dinner, we sit around the campfire, we go to bed.: The way the sun comes down through the trees, especially when you're walking along the camp road to your site or someone else's.: Going to the beach at night to look at the stars and watch for falling ones - we're usually there during the Perseids, so it's often very rewarding.

Stupid beach and campsite challenges include beach bocce (occasionally a bird steals a ball and you have to chase it down), playing hangman with sticks and feet in the campsite dirt (this is very difficult, especially when Collette confuses 'A Lannister Always Pays His Debts' with 'A Lannister Never Forgets' - that's elephants, Collette, not Lannisters), limbo-ing under the clothesline, log-rolling, and standing in your doughnut in a manly pose while your bathing suit dries.

Also possibly doing some kind of Broadway number

Campfire

Sunset