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Show Cnsomebudeegivemeaand Sooo we went camping a few weeks ago... well not exactly camping. We went up the mountain to eat dinner with some friends who were camping. After eating dinner, we went home and let the camp fire should have been and started talking. As friends started arriving each new group brought about different stories, jokes, and greetings. As some of you may have guessed by now, what I do best (I have been wrongly accused of that being the only thing I do) is people-watcso I am there by Gary Torres kids sleep out on the trampoline in the back yard, while we went in on our Serta Perfect Sleeper. But lets not ruin a story with facts. For all practical purposes, we went camping since we were there when someone else was camping. Besides, if you had seen the size of the camp trailer they hauled up the mountain, you might not have called what they did camping either. Ahhh, there aint nothin that beats the aroma of clean mountain air, Dutch oven taters, and the smoke of a camp fire. Okay, because of fire restricthe county-wid- e tions we didnt have a fire, and actually come to think of it, we didnt have Dutch oven taters plea for help, But the clean mountain air... well there was a lot of dust from all the either. construction fouling up the air, but like I said, lets not ruin the story with the facts. After all, I believe it was TNvain that said, Young man, first get your facts; then distort them as you please. We arrived early and formed a circle around where the was thus earnestly employed when (Boyle) Lynda starts to unload her bottle, four kids -- assorted ages and sizes, picnic basket, Dutch oven, four small chairs - assorted colors and two large chairs all balanced precariously, as she strained up the hill to camp. She looks up, tries to smile and says between grunts and Cnsomebudee givemeaand? I looked at my too kind and loving wife and said, Huh? What did she say? Lynda couldnt exactly articulate her words very well and smile while holding the my butter, which belief that she is the one other angel on this earth besides my mother, ro I stayed there and helped her (food taster, a job I take quite seriously) for a few minutes. Okay, I wasnt much help, but I begged sufficiently that she threw a scrap or two my way. Later, at home as I nestled into my Serta Perfect Sleeper, I thought to myself, you know, I need to go camping more often. ed considering the where she thought it was Herculean feat appropriate to help. Funny (the balance... the how sometimes you get in strength... the trouble when you are only I trying to help. endurance) was really enjoying myself. I groans, Can somebody give me a hand? Which of course, van on the main road. She unpacks enough stuff for three weeks of island camping on Survivor. She starts up the short hill to the camp trying to carry the complete contents of the van in one trip. She had a heavy cast iron two burner stove, full making scones and honey sand-bagge- r, withjustahintof a lounger watching, relaxing, just pretty much Angie (Hugentobler), was consent from her attorney. It had something to do with volunteering her services as a when we turned State Street into a river in the big flood of SLC. After that little stunt, she pretty much let me know that she was perfectly capable of deciding when and articulated her firmness, know. without express written carefully to s struggling was really making me wonder if she was ever going to make it up that hill... and 1 knew she was bringing the dessert, which of course I was keenly interested in. I learned several years ago that I was not to volunteer my too kind and loving wifes help distressed, re- comfortably affixed LP-ga- and loving wife, as all this although somewhat h, Course I was thus earnestly employed in my aforementioned lawn chair and was getting awfully weary and pretty dam hungry too. I was hoping that things would get going soon, as I hate to eat late... upsets my digestion ya I was about to send my too kind Dutch oven clinched between her teeth and carrying 500 pounds of ballast (essential gear needed for the two hour get together). Undaunted by my confused look (which I almost always have on) and still trying to be pleasant, wrhile looking my direction, Lynda THE SAN JUAN RECORD Wednesday. August 2, 2000 - Page 18 impressed with her athletic prowess... so I clapped and gave her a hand. Which prompted her perky dimple to shift to a raised eyebrow and just a hint of a knitted brow as she gave me a look that seemed to say, Are you really that stupid? And because I was confused as to what to do, I smiled big, which Mamma always said was a universal language, but may have also appeared as 2nd Annual USU Extension BEAT THE BUZZER Friday August 18 3 pm San Juan County Fairgrounds Stage All yes" to Lynda. ages are invited to participate Rounds will be divided by age Questions will be on a variety of subjects After stumbling over a few rocks and sliding down the loose dirt, I did get to feeling bad for her, so I sent Bill (Boyle), her cerebral (a redneck with a vocabulary) but loving husband, to help. They had so much stuff that even with both of them they still came up short handed. So GREAT PRIZES FOR THE V-TriB- 18l For more information, call USU Extension at 435-587-32- 39 BUSIN ESSIDI R E GiLO RM0 BU S I N E S SI D I R E GiTO R M REDD MECHANICAL heating air conditioning Pimm: SPRINKLER SYSTEMS OwnerContractor Michael W. 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