I love my dad's sense of humor.
Here's another story from his journals, this time from a four-week cross-country car trip we took in the summer of 1968. When we weren't visiting relatives, we camped in a small tent-trailer, at inexpensive campgrounds. Some were wonderful, most were fine, and a few were less so. Of the North Woods Motor Court and Campground, which as far as I can tell no longer exists, Dad said,
It looks like the owner is fixing things up in his spare time, and he hasn't had much spare time.
There were only two picnic tables, and one bathroom. But with only four families staying, that worked out all right, and we were just thrilled to be camping on green grass for the first time in quite a while. It's only worth writing about because Dad's comment makes me laugh.
And also because this campground was the scene of our Great Skunk Adventure, but that is another story.
Our skunk adventure was on Cape Cod and involved a St. Bernard. Poor Shana. She was, I think, horribly embarrassed to be bested by something so much smaller.
