I crossed my eyes, and

I crossed my eyes, and they stayed that way.

Kate and I went camping last weekend; armed with a four-person Eureka A-frame tent and several self-heating meals (you just pull the string and wait twenty minutes, they are the coolest things EVER), we went to a campground in Lancaster county. This was to be car camping, definitely not hard-core, so we looked in the Woodall’s Tent Camping Guide to find a place. Woodall’s is only good to find RV campsites, unfortunately, but we found a great place called “Lake in Woods Family Camping Resort”, which had a trading post, a lake with paddleboads, one bazillion RV hookups with LP gas, electricity, and a coaxial cable for satellite TV(!) and golf carts darting everywhere.


The camping was a lot of fun, with one big problem. I carried a forty-pound stack of firewood on my shoulder for about three-quarters of a mile, then slept in a funny position with a cold breeze on my neck. Or something. Anyhow, when I woke up, my neck and left arm had these shooting pains that wouldn’t stop, no matter what position I put myself in. It sucked.


It turns out that I damaged the medial nerve that comes out of vertebrae C6. Or something. So I spent three days in a semi-recumbent position chewing Ibuprofen and trying to ignore my arm. Yuck, yuck, yuck. Kate’s family knew a great chiropractor, though, and the company was congenial (I stayed in Philly), and I’m pretty much better, except that if you look at the webcam, you’ll probably notice that I’m slouching waaay down in my chair.

I crossed my eyes, and

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