BUTT CAMP

How George Michael wishes he could spend time in an overnight BUTT CAMP for 4 days like we did........

You doubted me when I said that we traveled to "Butt Camp", didn't you? How dare you impugn my virtuous reputation! As you can see from the sign we did indeed spend the week at HE BUTT's place. Some marketing genius whispered in H.E. Butt's ear and convinced him to rename his chain of grocery stores by his initials, "H.E.B", after much confusion from people telling their spouses that they were headed to the "Butt Store" to pick up a few odds and ENDS.

We had to drive through the Frio River (Rio Frio) just to make our way to camp. Yes, we DROVE THROUGH the river, not OVER the river and through the woods to H.E. Butt Camp we go. Melody kept calling it the FRITO River. Oh, to dream of a body of water comprised of nothing but yummy corn chip goodness. A FRITO River would taste better flowing through Chile though. Frito Pie.........mmmmmmmmm.

Ever wonder how incredibly vociferous six kids and an obnoxious Mom can be while shouting in unison? This picture shows an overview of the camp, with the main ranch house where we ate our meals in the middle, our cabins on the right (we got the nearest cabin to the ranch house because we're super special), and the lovely Frio River adding to the scenic beauty. We sat on the site overlook after we left camp and spied our homeschool director taking off in her car below us. Just for fun we started waving frenetically and shouting, "Bye Irving Family!!!!", never expecting that they could actually hear us at that distance. All of a sudden arms started jutting out the car windows waving back at us. They HEARD us! I guess we don't need that Super Saver megaphone coupon after all.


Here is the cabin in which we stayed, and survived for a whole week sharing one toilet! The cabin featured a large walk in shower, dual sinks, 14 beds, heat and air conditioning, a waterfront view, and two porches. Yes, we're obviously descended from that rugged pioneer stock to make it in such a primitive place.

This is also in front of our cabin. There is nothing sweeter than frolicking on the riverfront and knowing that when nature calls, your private commode is just yards away. The nearest town is called Leakey, and when we passed the high school we learned that they are the "Leakey Eagles." For some unknown reason this gave us fits of laughters for miles. I kept saying, "Kids, grab your umbrellas, the Leakey Eagles are just ahead and flying this way."