Adventure Scrapbooking

I think next year, I'll just have to take a picture so I can scrapbook my scrapbook adventure.

Every year I go scrapbooking for an entire weekend of rustic luxury. We stay in cabins, and we bring snacks, and we have a chef who cooks for us. All of my non-scrapbooking friends are totally jealous. They laugh at me, but I know they are jealous. I just know it.

All these years, I've thought I was safe. But this time, some weird stuff happened. First of all, there were these weird guys on property for hours. We did what all moms do, we sent two moms out confronted them, while the rest of us waited back and if they weren't back in 5 minutes, we'd get help. So, the fellow scrapbooking moms found the weird guys still roaming around and asked if we could help them. And Darryll and his other brother Darryll just said, "We're looking for Mudfest...maybe that was for last year...we seen it at the internet." Gross. We told them we'd go call the authorities to help them find the Mudfest for them. They finally left.

Later, because we are such wild and crazy scrapbooking ladies, we stay up very late and have to go back to our cabins with flashlights. I think my incessant talking actually helped warn creatures we were there, because something snorted at us. It sounded like a growl meets a snore meets a heavy breather. Could have been Darryll or Darryll, I suppose.

That creeped me out, because it was no raccoon. It was bigger sounding. We hauled ass to our cabin, locked the door and went to sleep.

The next day, I asked our cook about it. I have assumed that there was someone in charge on the premises at all times for emergencies, but it turns out - there's not.

Cook: "We had a raccoon with rabies. We have a cat now."

Me: "Like, a house cat?"

Cook: "Oh, No, a big cat."

Me: "Isn't there someone that is in charge and stays on the premisise? Who do we call if we get eaten or abducted?"

Cook: "Oh, that's Tony. But he ain't nuthin. Just call 9-1-1."

Oh.

My.

God.

And I'll totally go back next year with my scrapbook mace, and a bow and arrow.
That's how I roll.