I don't know what came over me.
I found myself wanting scary stories told over a bonfire.
Sleeping on the ground under stars.
I found myself wanting summer over the weekend.
So I came up with a temporary fix. I politely begged Brian to go on a camp in with me. Essentially like a camp out, only indoors.
We put our gas stove to use and made s'mores. Typically, I am afraid of that oven. I've never had a gas stove until this apartment. And I always just associate gas stoves with carbon monoxide poisonings. I can't even tell you how many times a day I obsessively check to make sure all the switches on the oven are off. I would just hate to accidentally kill myself with a kitchen appliance, ya know? But Saturday night, I was grateful for the gas stove when in it assisted us in roasting some delightful mallows. Then we rearranged the furniture in our living room to make a spot in the center of the room for our air mattress. After blowing it up and piling it with blankets and pillows, we cuddled, snacked on s'mores, and watched Argo (which won the very deserving award of best picture at the Oscars on Sunday, although I do still love Les Miserables).
T'was a very fine camp in, indeed. Although, I will admit that we wimped out and abandoned the air mattress for our comfortable bed upstairs once the movie ended. That's one luxury you can't enjoy on a camp out.
How do you handle "spring fever"? Do you talk people into having camp ins like I did?