Let me start by saying, it was no Berea...but then, my last post might truly explain why that wouldn't even be possible, even if we had been at Berea. It was a long trip to the middle of nowhere Kentucky, to enjoy a week of dancing and fellowship at a family folk camp. The morning began with a community dance, followed by dance classes and daycare for Elias. It took Elias a while to warm up to his "school", but eventually he was telling Matt or me to go to our classes. We enjoyed a too short time of sharing songs, magic tricks, and stories at the fireplace just before lunch. After lunch the three of us napped, then it was back for more dancing and daycare for Elias. After dinner, there was another community dance and then an evening dance. Elias went to bed before the evening dance, and Matt and I traded off enjoying the music and people at night. They had hall monitors, but Elias wasn't too sure about sleeping in our room by himself.
It was a little hard eating because by the time one of us got through the lunch line, Elias was finished and was ready for trouble. Luckily, Elias made a great friend, Kyra, who was a saint of a girl. She would entertain him while eating, play with him while we finished, and then convince him to go with us when it was time to leave. I was ready to hire her as our full-time babysitter.
Some of the highlights were hearing Elias ask for more banjo playing, more fiddle playing and watching the accordion player with great interest (he played during both fire alarms...awesome!). He wanted to know when it was time to dance and was always excited when one of us left in the evening to go to the evening dance. He played the harp, made a crown, planted seeds, and played with playdough. It was fun, but I think overall Elias was still a little too young. I envyed the families whose kids sat at the kids table, had adult conversations during meals, and stayed up late on the porch rocking and talking. We just need a few more years.
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