Gone camping

This weekend we took Emerson to the woods to attend a three day sustainability summit organized by a colleague of mine (and at which I facilitated a few sessions). You don't know what you can and can't manage with a baby until you try it, right?

The accommodations were rustic cabins, with walls that were just screens above armpit height. We were deep in the redwoods in a valley, so it was dark and chilly in spite of the hot sunny summer day happening overhead. It was even darker and chillier at night, and the screen walls didn't do much to hold in any heat.

As the only people with a baby at the conference, we presented a modest spectacle. We were alternately providing inspiration for summit attendees (after all, sustainability is about future generations and Emerson represents that well) and providing inspiration for banning children from future conferences. I got a laugh when I dripped yogurt sauce on top of Emerson's head as he sat in my lap at dinner. He was unphased.

The first night was long. Until about 3am we could hear the other conference attendees dancing, drinking and revelling around the campfire. It was cold and Emerson slept in my sleeping bag with me. He actually did pretty well though his early morning feeding ended with him giving all that milk back to me, catching me totally off guard. He's not much for the spitting up, usually. I guess all bets are off when you're camping.

We stayed most of the day Saturday but decided to skip out on a second night in the cabins. On the way home we stopped for dinner in Healdsburg, a cute wine country village and the site of Eric's proposal-with-ring almost a year ago now.

Emerson woke up and started wailing as we were cruising the main strip looking for parking. Eric saw a primo parking spot on the other side of the street and was already executing an illegal u-turn to nab it when he registered a cop watching him. Eric had successfully parked in the desired spot when the cop rolled up, lights flashing.

"Crying baby, eh?" he commented as he arrived at the driver's side window.

He must have children; he let Eric off with a warning.

Sleeping in our own bed that night felt great.