Camping at Blue River

Kurt and I spent Saturday night camping at Blue River in southern Indiana. We loafed around our campsite on the river bank, enjoyed the sun and read our books, cooked over the campfire and explored the forest. Kurt caught a fish. Then he caught a frog.

After running through the woods for only a few hours, poor Wrigley had become host to nearly 30 ticks, despite our efforts to spray him liberally with Frontline. We spent a good 30 minutes searching through his fur for the little monsters. We collected them in a glass bottle, a tick holding cell. They later met their fate in the fire. It was wild.

At night, we watched the trees sway through the netted canopy of Kurt's tent. It rained a little but we didn't mind.

sausage lust

playing with fire
Kurt has a history of playing with fire.


fishing in Blue River

little fish
A whopper.

corn cobs
We love our cob cage. Maybe next time we'll try campfire grilled cheeses.

Making faces.

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