Report from Camp Margaritaville

This is what my kitchen looks like every morning as I make lunches for the grandchildren. They help too, but we start the morning with them on one side of the island eating breakfast and me on the other constructing lunches. Pleaseohplease let me have a few years where I make lunch for no one, I wrote to a friend the other day. But really, this week has been fun. Camp has been from 9-4 so I've had time to think. Uh. Maybe not. I think I've mostly been buying more food. Added to my mom's mainstays of white sugar, butter, yogurt, jam, coffee, half and half, and vanilla ice cream, we now cannot run out of bread, cheese, milk, ham, or grapes. I have made ridiculously simple dinners. Bacon and eggs, quesadillas, pasta, pizza. I would now like to live in a box of mixed greens with homemade vinaigrette. Or maybe I'd like to marry a French chef and get fat. One or the other. I can't decide.

Family is arriving for this holiday. All my children will be here. People will be sleeping in the living room and in the garage which serves a a guest room since there's plenty of room out there.

We have pretty angst-free relationships with one another. Lovelovelove is pretty much the way things go. People are considerate and kind. There will be kayaking, and board games, walks and naps, and getting caught up. One of us is looking for a new apartment, one is falling in love, three have relatively new jobs, one has just graduated and is looking for a job, and the grandkids are always surprising us with something.

Hello from Camp Margaritaville. Population:11 Age range: 9-90.