Santa Stops Here

Not too long ago I lived on five acres about an hour from town with little more than a 7-11, NAPA Auto Parts and Southern States nearby (which is all anyone needs really). Toward the end of my ten year residence in that rural community my parents decided to leave the Shore and move to be near me. For the initial three months of their new adventure "near" meant underneath my feet living with me and my husband. We'll talk about how that went later, but for now I want to reminisce about this one episode.

I came home from work to find mom in her usual spot in front of the kitchen sink washing dishes. Mom has a compulsion to wash dishes and she seems obsessed with the sink. Most people load a dishwasher. Instead, mom sees any opportunity to wash a dish or a glass and immediately props herself right there to do so. Sometimes I think she deliberately messes up a glass just to have an excuse.

Anyway, this story is really about my dad so now I will get back on track. Having spoke to mom, I proceeded with my usual routine of changing clothes to workout on the treadmill in my garage. On the way to the garage, however, I noticed something a bit odd. A garden hose attached to the pump was leading straight into the woods. Even more confusing was the sight of an extension cord in parallel also leading straight into the woods. Mind you my woods were just woods - there was no structure or reason I was aware of requiring water and electricity but I of course had to investigate.

So I did. I followed the green and orange trail into the bush ever curious. Within several yards, I could hear some music. The hose and cord led me to a camp, and you guessed it, my dad. During the move he had apparently come across some of his boy scout equipment and decided to put it to good use. He had a tarp serving as his roof and unpacked his cooking essentials. I don't think the $5.00 folding chair strung between two trees was boy scout issued, but it complimented the space well. I doubt one could have been successful in using the "hammock" but I'll give him points for creativity. Of course he get points too for the idea of upgrading his camp with running water and electricity.

I'm sure this was to him a great idea and long range plan to get some space from my mom. My dad always joked about living in a camp in my woods and by God he actually did it. But what is still a mystery to this day is the sign that he chose to hammer into the ground marking his haven. I'll never forget what I saw as I approached dad's camp. The packing and unpacking of the move had turned up more than just survival gear from his Eagle Scout days. At first sight of the camp was a sign attached to a pole that simply said "Santa Stops Here."