RHODE ISLAND - Harry Potter made me cry

So, after last week's not so much fun happenings this one took a considerable upturn for the following reasons:

1) Contact from many favourite people
Amazing how a few e-mails and one great big parcel can make a day better than it was. Darling Nicole, after a week or so of silence, suddenly typed off seven pages of wonderful e-mail which I got just before dinner on Wednesday. She's so lovely... And this was after receiving a massive package from the delightful Merry containing not only Harry Potter but also all sorts of random promotional bits and bobs. I ate the book in about six hours and got all sniffly at the end. (J.K. Rowling has repaired a lot of the damage from the snore enducing Book 5. All the major ommissions from that book are repaired, gone are all the fatty sidetracks to nowhere and the last incredible few chapters are the reading equivalent of being punched repeatedly in the gut. But pretty much in a good way. Can't say I agree with all her character choices in this one, but my faith is restored that she knows what she's doing with the series)

2) Getting to be all Mr. Centre of Attention
Nothing gets you noticed like a great big cast, y'know. I've had it for about twenty four hours now and it is, of course, as irritating as any great big piece of white cast can be. But, gotta say, it's better than the splint I've been wearing since at least now I can actually use some of my favourite features of my right hand. My thumb has been immoblised which means, evolutionarily speaking, I'm back to the level of apes. Except I can't swing through trees on account of my broken wrist.


Most popular cast. Ever.

3) Campers
Basically the make or break of the week given last week's little terrors. This week I was back to being a normal member of staff instead of a director and I think that makes a big difference. Directors have to constantly watch the clocks and check all the tiny behavioral details of their charges. Counselors get much the same but are generally as clueless about the schedule as everyone else and, ergo, don't get the blame when things go wrong. Program(me) staff get even less blame, just as long as the program(me)s are good. So I was in a better position anyway to begin with. But I also had the privilidge of working with Laura's wonderful Adventure Camp. These guys spend their whole week in the woods, putting up their own shelters and cooking all their own food, coming down just for program(me)s and occassional washing. I was with them for the best part of three days, setting them challanges and seeing how they responded. I had them running through the trees, balancing on logs and wires and capsizing canoes. Eventually, Laura decided we should give them the ultimate challenge: transport their entire food supply across the lake via canoes and row boats. Challenge was set, responded to and completed spectacularly. I was proud of all those guys (and we're talking young early teens here, mostly girls with only one guy among them) If I ever need a tarpaulin put up for me, I'm giving them a call.


Adventure camp on their latest mission. What you can't see from this picture is the level of panic rising in the furthest boat and Laura, closest to us, veering wildly across the lake. Rowing's trickier than it looks, first.

Next week I'm back directing. And it's the soccer camp. Bah. My plans, beatufully completed in incomprehensible left handed scrawl last Monday, were thrown into doubt with the news that I will probably only have six campers. That's six campers. Not even five a side teams. This could be one long week...

RHODE ISLAND - Ouch

A sad day for me and my one hundred percent non broken bones record. That record no longer stands and I am now a left handed person.

Twas a simple game of earth ball with sixty or so campers. Some youngsters, some special needs adults and their helpers. Occassionally people tumble. And, sadly, one of them tumbled onto my wrist. It hurt. Boy howdy, it hurt. But being only thirteen hours into my sixteen hour day with a staff show to perform and being, you know, a man, I decided to ignore the agony and just carry on working. I lasted until Friday morning until Kristen, nurse extrodinaire, wondered why I wasn't leaping to carry around her heavy crates of meds, took a look at my swollen hand (in my defence, I've never had a swollen hand so have no concept what one looks like) and dispatched me to the ER (like TV only they spend most of their time on the phone to insurance companies and talking about their lunches) where my poor wrist was declared broken and put out of action.

I have a funky brace thing to wear this week and will absolutley positively not be using my right hand (typing and page turning Harry Potter excepted. Don't tell Kristen) until Thursday when I shall receive an attractive plaster cast with which I'll be performing the rest of my American visit. I'm not a lefty in any sense of the word, so any left handed advice would be welcome.

This trail of incident, by the way, happened whilst I was directing my first ever camp. Of which little need be said except I've never had a more stressful, sleep deprived week. Nothing to do with the hogans, which are now cleaner and smell nicer than ever before. No, it was my eight campers of whom I can safely say only one could be described as normal and completley well adjusted. The others all had issues with themselves and each other. I felt bad for Adam and Mark as, each time they failed a group initative, they would have to process seven campers screaming at each other and trying to assign blame. We were lucky to survive each other. Well, all except my wrist of course.


Mark leads my campers to the terrors of the marsh. Or is that my terrors to the marsh? I forget which.

RHODE ISLAND - Belchertown

So I never thought I would find myself in a town called Belchertown. I didn't even think such a place existed. But, lo annd behold, two of the Aldersgate staff live in this most wondorous of places. I am currently in the living room of lifeguard extrodinaire Colleen on a laptop trying to find the @ sign (note to Americans: the SHIFT 2 combination is for quotes only. Deal with it.) More on the amazing Colleen and her wisdom at a later date.

We've finished two weeks of camp and I miss some of those kids like crazy. Not so much the one which lied about his swimmming ability and tried to drown himself. Or the one which attacked another one with a chair. Oh, and the one which threw a log at me? Not going to be sending him a Christmas card. But the others were pretty cool. Special shout outs to Britta, asker of the immortal question "which would you prefer: breast or hair cancer?", Meghan, Kate, Adam, Brandon and all the other millions of wonderful sports campers. I know most of you didn't really like sport, which made our week's worth of sports programming a tad redundant. But most of you behaved yourself and stopped climbing the side of the bathhouse when I screamed at you (except you, Devin)


Sports Camp doing what they do best. Not sport

Sports camp was also a fascinating experience in coping with changing situations. I spent the weekend preparing for the arrival of my five kids. Learning their names, ages and things like that. By Sunday afternoon I was up to six. Then came the maggots. Remember the hogans from a few weeks ago? Well, here's an interesting sidebar. They're a favourite breeding ground for both ants and mice. And where you get ants eggs, you can get maggots eating them. Teri (summer camp director and all round great shouty woman) discovered this along with her merry band of sports campers shortly after arrival on that dark Sunday. Cue a swift relocation to waterfront cabins and, suddenly, me having nine campers to look after. Half a week later and Adam leaves on three day break (long story but ends with "the lucky swine escaped") and now I have eighteen of the little so and sos. Moral of the story: never bother learning names. Another thirteen more will come along soonafter.

Shoutsouts also due to the funky guys and gals of Unplugged camp. They play music and they play it well. Their version of Pinball Wizard was a fine a Who cover as I've heard from a couple of guitars and a scratchy mike. Jonathan, Becca, Sam, Karl, Shane and Britta (again) all demanded names mentionned. Consider yourselves mentionned. Now leave comments or I'll get really angry and throw fruit at you all (another long story which ends with "and then our head director, Jeffrey, threw fruit at everyone in the dining hall.")


Unplugged in da house.

Next week I become a camp director and, like a shorter less impressive hat version of Indiana Jones, head back to the hogans to see if they're liveable in. I reckon so, but the fifteen or so ickle ten year olds I'm in charge of for the week might disagree. Not that they get any choice in the matter. And one of my partners in crime, Laura, and I went down ahead of time to peppermint spray those ants to oblivion. They won't be bothering us again. Maybe. But after sports camp, I figure I'm ready for most things this summer can throw at me. Even my soccer training went down well (Americans think it's cute that I compare them all to Premiership players they've never heard of) And, hey, those fourth of July fireworks? Mighty impressive.


Red, white and blue fireworks to celebrate American independance from the British. I was sitting right there with South African Megan taking pictures and nobody noticed me. Take that, Americans!

But it's the weekend and it's Belchertown. Enough about work! I need to get in my twenty four hours rest before the kids arrive again... Blessing to all London viewers. All things considered, your weeks sucked. But, hey, we got the Olympics! In your face New York, Paris and terrorists!


Laura demonstrates the most popular contribution to the Friday night staff meeting at Camp Aldersgate