Camping was always quite an adventure in Ethiopia–and my dad loved it. This was one of our sweet spots on the savanna, near a lazy brown river that we floated down on air mattresses and in inner tubes. Sometimes, I laid in my sleeping bag and listened to lions rumbling and grumbling in the grass.
Notice, however, that my mom is putting on her lipstick.
Our family continued to have camping reunions and adventures all the way up until mere months before my dad’s death this December. I recently studied a list of national parks and figured out I’ve visited 28 of them. You? Anyone know the very first national park?
(Hint…it also shows up in my brother’s very first novel, which comes out this May, and you can probably guess from studying the cover below.)
In creating Lanie’s story with her longing to go camping, I admit that I could relate to the inside members of her family, too. It was a lot more fun being the kid in the camping scene than being the mom.