Three Grandkids, Six Days
... and joy beyond measure
Last week was Gaga & Papa Camp at Tranquillity, meaning we hosted three granddaughters, ages seven, five, and four. Despite the name attached to our home, things were not all that tranquil. This was our third year, and I’d venture to say, we’re getting better at it. And, I’m pleased to report, our refrigerator art has been freshened and enriched.
I’ll resist sharing how engaging these children are in the assumption that you’re not all that interested. That’s largely projection, reflecting my wandering attention when friends start discussing their heirs. Interest up to a point, sure, but that point is reached quickly. Hence, I’ll resist most cute stories… most, not all. Suffice to say, these are GREAT kids; our daughters and their husbands are terrific parents.
One camp priority is to encourage these kids to do, to participate, to experience things directly. Making pancakes, baking cookies, picking and displaying wildflowers, including choosing the vase, tasks all accomplished with some assistance. Two constants throughout camp: a daily water-related experience (swimming pool, splash pad, aquatic center); AND regular excursions to visit nearby friends or family, sometimes playing with others their age, sometimes interacting with loving adults. Much gratitude to neighbors who supported these outings with exceptional patience and hospitality.
A recurring camp highlight, at least for me, is the annual “operetta,” performed and videoed after several uneven rehearsals. This year’s selection, “The Three Little Kittens,” required procuring cat-ear headbands and mittens; according to script, the latter were lost, then found; dirtied, then cleaned; all part of a three-minute show. Hilarious! Surely, highlights from existing videos, and presumably from all subsequent performances, will be featured at future grandkid graduation parties.
Camper realities. The long drive to and from Chicago now requires three iPads with pared earphones, no small task. Inevitable glitches are invariably overcome by our helpdesk / troubleshooter / chief technology officer – Gaga. Well done, dear. We weren’t quite as successful solving the recurring “where’s my _____?” mystery, generally pertaining to footwear, water bottles, and/or stuffed companions at bedtime. It means tacking five or ten minutes onto all significant transitions to search for and secure misplaced items. Somehow, I’d forgotten.
Mention of the ever present (except when lost) water bottles prompts me to ask, when did these colorful vessels become an essential part of daily life? It’s now to the point that our beloved four-year-old, perpetually searching for her water bottle, declared to all within range, “I HAVE to hydrate!” Who’s to argue?
Two camp enhancements were implemented this year. Wading in the creek (pronounced “crick”), plus a timed run around the prairie loop, following a freshly mowed track. Informal evaluations graded both activities highly, indicating the strong likelihood of becoming repeat activities. Creek wading required butterfly nets doubling as crayfish nets. One precious child insisted on calling crayfish piranhas, fearful of anything more than minimal interaction. Please know, the dozen crayfish captured by adroit netting skills, ha, were all set free to grow and prosper.
Plans for next year, when there will be four campers, include campouts on a small island, perhaps 300 square feet, located one-hundred yards from our front door. We envision erecting a tent and Papa sleeping out with two kids at a time, hopeful of finding the sweet spot when grandkids are old enough and grandpa is young enough to make it through the night. (We’ll see…) I also envision purchasing four cane poles, enabling us to plumb the once abundant shiner, chub, and sunfish population in Otter Creek, the western boundary of our acreage. Finally, we might need to alter our children’s literature selection. After almost four decades, Berenstain Bears’ storylines now seem a bit stale.
In summary, by all accounts, it was an incredible week. No sunburns, no Band-Aids, no sicknesses, including no homesickness. It seems the kids enjoyed it immensely. And despite occasional bursts of angst on the part of all participants, their joy was only a small portion of the pleasure and fulfilment derived by Gaga and Papa. Dates are already set for 2025. I can’t wait!
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I’m proud to be part of the Iowa Writers’ Collaborative. These are my colleagues:
wait! Where's the video of the operetta???