On camping, and moving

We went camping this weekend.  Oh mother nature, how I love thee.  The freaky little black mouse-squirrels that chatter at you, in what I am shure is squirrel for "Eff you you bastards, you're messing up my nut burrying!"  The little chipmunks, the marmots.  (What the HELL is a marmot anyway?  Freaky groundhog things.)  Best of all, at night, its just the wind in the trees and the sound of an owl or maybe a few bats.  No screaming kids, sirens, traffic, and no neighbors screaming at her baby-daddy about how she can't get her weave fixed because he's too lazy to get a job.  (Not that that's a mostl-true stereotype of half of our neighbors in this building.  Not at ALL....)

The one thing about it though, any time we get back, I want to flippin kiss the person who invented indoor plumbing.  I'm not really  much for peeing behind a tree.  Although, given the choice, I would rather pe behind the tree than on the top of a mountain where there's no cover, besides the Jeep, for about 20 miles around.  Not that this happened.  On this mountain.  Ah-Hem. 

This was actually taken by a friend of ours.  I had some amazing pictures, but none that really caputured the height of the mountain.  Notice, this entire shot is well ABOVE the tree line.

The perk of that was that I now know how to pee without taking my pants off or peeing on them.  Score one for me!

I fail to understand why anyone would not want to take full advantage of the miracle of indoor plumbing.  I guess I could ask the guy peeing off the balcony of the apartment a cuple of floors above us last month.  On the other hand, how about not.

Have I mentioned that I'm happy as hell to be moving for the 4th time in 2 1/2 years?  No?  I'm about to start doing flippin cartwheels.    We get to start moving in about two weeks.  And hopfully I'll never know the ending to the balad of the neighbor, her weave, her baby-daddy, and the much screamed about job.