in and out of the woods

 we took our class, or rather some of our students, into the woods. two stayed overnight with us. our sister program joined us, they had four overnighters. four adults, six teens, and a camp to ready for the summer school kids.
 "our" camp is part of a boy scout camp.
 the biggest job is putting in the dock, and the morning we did this, the temperature started out in the low 40s. by this time, mid morning, it was still cold, but the 50s are a bit better.
one student said his heart was beating hard, racing from the cold.
he was a wee bit worried, but i reassured him.
i didn't go in.
 a camp-themed textile
 this is a stuff sack, from the 70s
 beautifully sewn
 patches from summer trips, camping, in the u.s. northeast and canada
a funky treasure, something i might have made. but i didn't.

deep



we took the hooligans deep into the woods thursday and friday, working at an old boy scout camp that the boces special education program rents each summer for camp which is part of the summer school program. endless beds have to be hauled around and fabricated into bunks.
no running water or electricity, but a lake and outhouses. voracious bugs didn't deter us from readying the campsites and sweeping out several buildings.
once done, we boarded out short bus and trundled deeper still into the woods to visit a bog. i. did. not. have. my. camera. fool of a woman.
friday night, once showered and fed, i happily planned for another visit to the woods, this time to see my wonderful friends pat and butch bramhall. they live in a handmade, passive solar house filled with sunshine and laughter and love. we ate and talked and talked and talked. i made big bubbles under butch's tutelage on the bridge over raven pond.
butch makes amazing balls that i love. there might have been a little joking about balls... and talk about our wounded mother earth, and teaching kids, and making things. i met new friends who visited while i was there. it was an amazing day.
many mennonite farms in the arable land near the bramhalls place. some have instructions.


the late veronica terrillion, filled her "yard" with sculptures, that are now deteriorating. i remember my first time seeing this place, and was too shy to go over and meet the woman tending this "garden". i could kick myself now. 


when i got home i found that wendy was afraid. she didn't hear the weather report, but i did. tornado warnings until 8. she felt the weather report.