Every year I swear that I'm not going to do summer camps at the museum. And then, every year, I fold. Just for the last two weeks. Until then, the museum is usually able to hire elementary and middle school teachers. But they all have to go back for teacher training before the school year starts--and that's before camp is over. And then I'm faced with the "Ann, is there any way . . . .?" I could, in theory, say no. But I'm aware that Jennifer (my boss) would then be working the camps--and then doing her other work afterwards.
There were some highlights--going canoeing and having manatees be inches away from the boats. Going to the pet store to see wee baby snakes coming out of their eggs. On very disturbing incident--we were swimming in the springs in Marianna, and a boy (not one of ours) tried to swim under the dock and nearly drowned. Our kids were right there when the body was pulled out--already blue. By the grace of God, one of the people who spotted him was a former medical corpsman, and knew what to do--but it wasn't pretty.