Summer camp is a canadian way of life, and those who never went are always jealous of the lucky ones who did. These are letters passed along to me, a non-camper, to show me what I missed.

Dear Mummy,

We’ve been doing what Mr. Brown calls “woodcraft.” He says that by the time one of his girl campers is 10 she should know how to use a chain saw. It’s loads of fun but you have to be careful. Yesterday the girls from Cabin 5 dropped a tree on Emma-Jane.
Lucky for her it was only a big, bushy cedar and Mr. Brown says she’ll be fine when she gets out of the hospital. Anyway, she’s not missing much here. We had a gloopy, grey stew for supper.

Love, Kristin

PS: Bucky, our pet beaver, vanished overnight. He must have chewed through his cage.


Dear Mummy,

We finished our woodcraft and Mr. Brown says we now have a clear space for a new cabin. He said maybe we could learn to dynamite stumps, but Mrs. Brown smacked him a good one and that was fun. Now we are learning how to varnish canoes. I think the chain saw was more fun. Varnish makes your hands all sticky. Another gloopy stew for supper. Mr. Brown said it was burgundy beef, and he and Mrs. Brown laughed and laughed.

Love, Kristin

PS: Snuffy, our pet groundhog, has now escaped. He must have tunnelled his way out. Now our only pets are the rabbits and Lumpy, our pot-bellied pig.


Dear Mummy,

We finished those canoes and when we got them into the water they nearly all floated.
Too bad about the girls in Cabin 4. Mrs.
Brown said they should have been wearing life jackets. Except we only have two for the whole camp, and Mr. and Mrs. Brown were wearing them. But don’t worry, those girls only got wet. Well, wet and a little bit drowned but nothing our waterfront supervisor couldn’t fix. When they all could walk, they were sent to their cabin and missed supper. Too bad for them because we had some kind of stuff that tasted a bit like chicken. Not as good but better than gloop.

Love, Kristin

PS: Now the pet rabbits have gone. I told Mr. Brown and he slapped me on the back and said, “Have a drink, kiddo.” He’s fun.


Dear Mummy,

Now we are learning “campcraft.” At least that’s what Mrs. Brown calls it, but at home you would call it doing dishes and laundry. I told Mrs. Brown this and she said it might seem like that at home but up here it’s campcraft because we use cold water. So she must be right. Tomorrow she’s going to teach us how to make twig brooms and let us do campcraft in the cabins of the big girls.

The big girls are over on the other side of the point and we almost never see them, although we hear them a lot. I talked to one who was really old, like maybe 17, and when I asked her what she was learning she said “drinkcraft,” whatever that is. Something like how to tell the virtues of single malt, whatever that is. I asked her if Mr. Brown was her teacher, and she laughed and laughed and said he really preferred to do bed checks but Mrs. Brown would have him by the short and curlies if he came over to their part of the camp. What’s a short and what’s a curly?

Love, Kristin

PS: Splendid supper tonight — a big roast and lots of it. So much that I told Mrs. Brown I could take some out to Porky, our pot-bellied
pig. Mrs. Brown laughed and laughed.

I went out to look for Porky but she seems to have run off just like the other pets. Funny.


Dear Mummy,

Mrs. Brown says you are coming up to get me because of a change in your plans.
Couldn’t you wait a couple of days because Mr. Brown says our cabin is going to learn “latrinecraft.” Something about digging and shovelling. He said it would really put us in touch with nature.

Then he laughed and said, “Have a drink, kiddo.” Some funny guy.

Love, Kristin

PS: Salad for supper tonight, mostly cattails and bullrushes. Wonder what happened to the meat. Strange. IE