fortune cookies

Uh, it seems that someone working in a fortune cookie factory reads my blog. Really, I am so excited for every comment but when I google translate some of them, they are like this:
Can impart knowledge, wisdom can not. Each person must be his own.

and this:

Happiness is not everything, people have a responsibility.

They don't seem to actually relate at all to my crafting and posting and I do wonder what the story is. My daughter loves it anyway, though sometimes when I hit translate I hope it isn't porn (and it has been).

camp

Our annual camping trip to Cape Cod with our dearest friends was last week and it was great. The amount of relief I felt when we pulled in to the same site we have been at for years now was nearly overwhelming. It's a spot where all the regular routine we can get mired down in vanishes (replaced by another routine, but the change is refreshing, indeed)and we can just smell the woods and the smoke and sing and eat and swim and laugh and debate and bike ride and scooter and wonder if today will be a day that we will successfully poop (tmi? sorry).

Food: Probably the biggest consideration when planning our trip and we have gotten it down to a science. Of course we eat out for the fried seafood need, but at the site we also eat seafood purchased at a nearby fish shop and cook it over the fire in foil packets- oh yum! But my favorite meal for it's decadence and ritual is Raclette night. Apparently there is a Raclette cheese shortage right now, so says the cheese girl at Whole Foods, so we brought Morbier this year instead and it was soooooooooooo good. We stick the wedge of cheese on a log next to the flames of the campfire and allow the fire side of it to melt.

Meanwhile, we boil new potatoes and set out little cornichon pickles and olives.

So, melted cheese all over the spuds with the sharp olive and cornichons and wine and we are truly happy campers- happy campers who anticipate the dreaded cheese ball that inevitably forms in our bellies. Totally worth it.