...this past weekend was DH's annual campout with a group of buddies. They've been doing this for years - at least 10, definitely more than that I think. They game up there, they eat well up there, they smoke cigars up there. Up meaning on top of a mountain. Men only.

I was commenting to DH yesterday that they don't do old fashioned camping - and they haven't for at least 6 years. When you're bringing wine and port, fancy camp stoves, and making risotto on the top of a mountain, it ceases to be regular old fashioned camping.

Now, that's not to say that *I* want to go camping. I don't. I don't like bugs, bears, or sleeping on uneven ground. Never mind that my only experience with bears is in the zoo, and sleeping on uneven ground was restricted to tent camping in the backyard with the kids and DH.

Anyway, this weekend, DH went off, and the girls and I pulled out the remaining sleeping bags, a couple of comforters, pillows and blankies and had our own campout on the living room floor. This is our yearly tradition, right along with me taking the Friday of the trip off because our house is the check-in point for everyone in case someone comes late to the party. There's no cell coverage on the top of the mountain so they have to check in somewhere.

So Friday I spent stitching, watching movies and eating take out from the sushi place down the street (no raw fish this time, but the chef was making something lovely with tuna and a wasabi-ranch sauce that I'll have to try next time), until it was time to pick up the kids. After a quick trip to the grocery store, we cleaned up our campsite. Swiffering the kitchen, vaccuuming the living room, dusting and clearing the coffee table. We played a couple of quick games and then headed to Burger King for a picnic meal we could enjoy while watching a movie together.

The rest of the weekend was pretty similiar, except for the takeout. We had lots of fun. We watched movies, we played boggle, went to the park and played, read books, sat in the dark and talked while the lights were out and we were snuggled in our sleeping bags. I made a big pot of spaghetti sauce and we had ravioli while we watched 'Fraggle Rock' on Saturday - from the tomatoes in our own garden. Yes, I spent some time pruning back that big mass of basil and the tomato plants that grew everywhere *but* the tomato cages that we tried to train them up. Next year, we're going to tie them to the darn thing. Meanwhile, the snails are getting some of the fruit - and so is the dirt - it will get mulched back in for next year.

Ah, but I digress. I didn't do traditional camping this year, but neither did DH. I was perfectly happy with the camping we did do on the living room floor. Of course, I'm tired and my back is wiped out. I took a nap on the living room floor last night as a recovery measure from the night before when DH kept me up by tossing and turning.

You're probably wondering by now what the point of this post is. Well, since I'm still a little brain tired from the lack of sleep and the need to keep two girls occupied all weekend (and keep the cries of "I'm bored" at bay) there isn't a big point except this...

...when you do something that's always been one way for a long time, sometimes it's not a bad idea to bring a new twist to it. Like making risotto over a campfire. Or camping out in your living room in sleeping bags. You never know what you might get from the experience.