Well, trail heads, Happy Valentine’s Day (also celebrated in some cultures as “Singles’ Awareness Day” or “That Useless Made-Up Holiday That Only Benefits the Greeting Card Companies”).
Earlier in the week, I was toying with what to write for this week’s posting. When I realized that I was scheduled to put up my next blurb on the 14th, I thought, hey, why not a Valentine’s Day posting?
It’s a strange holiday, I know – after all, nothing says celebrating the rather gruesome martyrdom of a third-century saint by going overboard with chocolate, roses and public displays of affection.
But Valentine’s Day for outdoor people? I mean, if you and/or your partner are hiking people, what would make a good Valentine’s Day present or date night?
How many blog postings can one person do about s’mores?
Quite a few, it seems.
I took an informal (very, very informal) poll of people I know – college classmates and professors, co-workers, Facebook buddies, etc. – to ask them for their thoughts on s’mores. A lot of people offered their two cents’ worth, and the responses were all over the map – an indicator that s’mores are something that people can feel very strongly about.
I have a confession to make, everyone.
I did a ton of camping with my family when I was a kid, across Alaska, the Yukon, British Columbia, Texas and Maine. I’ve helped pitch tents, gone swimming and kayaking, helped my mom fix blueberry pancakes on the camp stove, and roasted my fair share of marshmallows and hot dogs over campfires.
But I never ate a s’more until I was in college.
It never fails to shock people when I tell them this. Their reaction is “You never ate a s’more? You had a deprived childhood.” Or, “Aw, man, what kind of camper are you?”