Camping on Thanksgiving would never happen in Utah, unless you wanted to eat your turkey while wearing mittens. Texas is where it’s at. (Oh, and I use the term “camping” loosely, as I’m one of those old fogeys that doesn’t think it counts as camping if you can watch Star Wars in bed). There were too many shenanigans to document here so I’ll just show you the nice, serene pictures and skip over the bee sting drama, Eric getting stuck in the baby backpack, and the gag-inducing “No rocking the RV” jokes. Yeah, I’ll skip all that.

We weren’t the only ones camping with a smoker. Some of those Texans’ smokers were three times the size of ours at least! Durn Texans always gotta one-up everyone.

Dutch oven stuffin’.

The fam! It’s the only one we took where you could see at least part of everyone’s head. I like how Grandpa is already diving in.

We tried to go fishing- well, we did go fishing. We tried to catch fish. It was still nice to be out on the lake casting and reeling, casting and reeling.

These munchkins made the trip special.

Lydia, whose birth I watched. (I know it’s weird, but I was thinking of being a nurse and my sis said go for it!) I love this girl.

"We found clamps!" (clams)

Bait. One of these ended up in the RV and really started to stink.



We're going fishing!

The canoe is too faaaaaast.

Happy boy.


Let's go hiking!

I enjoy Thanksgiving dinner.

I found a caterpillar! And I'm cute.

A perfect way to end the day.

I promise I’ll get back to house projects soon. My brother came and did a few annoying things for me that I’ve just been putting off, so I’ll share those and my new finished dressers and more.