At Skylemar, it’s rare that someone knows the time of day, let alone the date. No need for clocks – we go by our stomachs. If we forget, there’s a bugle for breakfast, lunch and dinner, and a reminder for snack on the way to Third Period.
For the most part, time flies at Skylemar. But because our “year” equals six weeks, everything is magnified. So much gets packed into daylight hours that a day basically equals a week, and a week therefore equals a month.
Our calendar is planned far in advance, and each day is meticulously orchestrated by Barney, to the point where every one of our 350 people here know exactly where they should be at any moment of time. But as happens in the regular world, things come up that we don’t expect. Therefore, we always need to create the following: Plan A, Plan B and Plan C.
Here’s an example…The camp had been booked for a 6 PM Seadogs game since the schedule came out in the winter. Hundreds of tickets were purchased, 7 buses and drivers were reserved, and the entire staff was on duty so that there would be a ratio at the ballpark of one or two boys for every staff member. That was Plan A. Things were to go pretty much the same way they had for the past 35 years.
Then on July 4th, the day when the bus company was closed, we find out that the time of the game had been miscommunicated, and it was actually going to be played at 1pm. Although the Seadogs were apologetic and offered for us to attend on an alternate night, that would mean complications with staffing. Sticking with the 1pm game also meant we’d need to change the buses, which didn’t seem possible since it was already a holiday weekend. Sherlock Shepherd (aka your camp director) texted with a friend of a friend of a friend, and ultimately got the cell number of the bus dispatcher. We rearranged buses, changed the daily schedule, switched around meals, sprayed every child with sunscreen and loaded the buses for the hour drive to Portland. That was Plan B.
Turns out today was the hottest day so far this season. There was a breeze at camp, but nothing in the ballpark. Seats were sweaty, faces were dripping and even the Seadogs announcer reminded the crowd to hydrate. Although the campers were their joyful selves, Shep could sense sunburns and “the crankies” coming. It was way too blistering to enjoy a game. After giving it a four-inning-try (about two hours) which was enough time for the kids to spend their $30 on ballpark food, the decision was made to rally the buses and head back to camp.
Plan C: Once we were home sweet home, we had to get these guys cooled off. Amen for Trickey Pond. We grabbed swimsuits and headed to the lake for quick dips. The dinner menu was changed to build-your-own Super Subs, with chilled watermelon and orange slices for dessert.
After a long day with our energy zapped, Evening Activity as planned was postponed. Instead we did what any good parent would do. We put on a movie (wink wink). All will sleep well tonight.
