Posted by: Daisy | August 18, 2008

Guys Weekend

Adventure Walking

Adventure Walking

I’ve been lucky enough to have been invited to a friend’s cottage for many many years – it has become an annual trek, of which I have only missed 1 year (the one when I had a newborn) out of more than a decade of sun, sand, water, fire and food.  Over those years, it’s been a lot of fire pits with food grilled as only guys can grill them.  We’ve probably eaten a cow (or two?), many chickens, and I’m sure corn came out our wazoo’s over all this time.  And of course, there’s enough funny stories over the years about all kinds of adventures in starting fires with receipts, pissing and pooping in the woods, and the like.

It tends to be a ‘guy’s weekend’ for many reasons, and I don’t even attempt to change it otherwise.  It’s my chance to be somewhere I’m not normally allowed and this past weekend, I was pleased to note the guys were telling me I was getting my Y chromosome in spades as I dusted off my learnings from the past and behaved more like a guy.

Of course, my Y chromosome is never that perfect – they laughed themselves silly when I didn’t know how to open a beer (it was a twist off) because my hands/skin are too sensitive/delicate to open twists – I still use the thing-a-ma-bob to remove caps.  My buddies then finished laughing, and opened it for me.

Of course, my little guy loved it, and really seemed to look up to the guys.  He’s gotten to the age where he really wants to hang out and learn what the older boys (and men) are up to as their adventures seems to be a bit more fun (read: risky).  When I took this photo, he had just finished running to catch up to them and the image just seemed so familiar – like Stand By Me or something like that.  The image showed me a story about an adventure as only guys can have them and I wonder what adventures he will see and be a part of as he grows older and begins his own adventure weekends with his own circle of friends.

Here’s to the boys and men in our lives, and the Y chromosomes we can sometimes pretend to have.

– Daisy


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