Southern Cajun Coons

So I just got back from my annual camping trip with my group of friends.  There were like 11 of us this year, and just a short back story is that they’re all like my deranged aunts and uncles.  My sister is one of these people along with her husband, and although this was my 3rd trip, this was their 19th.  Crazy right?!

Just to clarify a few things that people have constantly asked me since I came back.

Why on Earth do you go in January?  Isn’t it cold?

 

Yes.  It’s very cold, but we’re not out there in jeans and a t-shirt!  I end up wearing long johns (shirt & pants), a shirt, yoga pants or sweats, a hoodie, and a jacket.  LAYERS WOO!  Then we start a blazing fire and keep that sucker going the entire time.  Also, we have heaters in our tents.  There’s no rule that says you have to suffer at camping.  (I quote my sister).

What is your favorite thing about camping?

Other than getting completely smashed and yelling obscenities about things and people that I’ve wanted to all year but couldn’t because I’m polite?

Coons…

I f*cking love those fat racoons!!!  Every night we’d start to wind down, get our drank on, and settle around the fire to laugh so hard my head hurt.  Then the rustling would begin and the flashlights would come on, because other than the fire it is DARK outside at night in the woods.  Like…can’t see your hand in front of your face dark.  Try pissing in the woods without a flashlight.  You’ll run into a tree.

Anyway whenever we’d shine a light on those little stinkers they’d either ignore us, or grab a handful of whatever they were snacking on and high tail it into the woods.  And if they came back empty handed their entrance into the forest was always accompanied by:

“RARARAAAAAAAAAAAA!”  of the other coons giving him sh*t for not bringing back food.

I named one Brian and started mocking what they were really saying the night we put up literally everything.  (whereas the night before they feasted on my leftover lasagna, stole my ziplock bag of tea, a kettle, and an entire bottle of Cavendars seasoning)  Some coon was all bloated in the woods groaning.  Damn them Cajun coons!

“You’re a damn liar BRIAN!  YOU SAID THIS WAS THE MOTHERLOAD!  We’re never scavenging with you again!”   And thus began the tail of Brian the most giant raccoon ever.  As he found motherload after motherload alone.

I swear those coons scrapped and screamed all night long.

My favorite part really is hanging out with these people who can make me laugh all night long with their shenanigans.  And at camping it doesn’t matter how you dress, what you eat, what you do or what you say.  The constant mantra that everyone repeats here is that “It’s camping…you can do what you want.”  You want to eat chocolate and drink vodka for lunch?  It’s camping!  You want to nap all day in your tent and come out for dinner?  No problem, it’s camping!  You want to wear that?  It’s camping!  And I wonder sometimes…why can’t it be like that all the time?

Speaking of food.  I couldn’t start the endo diet during camping because there’s literally no way.  Other people make the meals, and hotdogs are so much easier to make.  Plus salads are cold, and who wants to eat a cold salad when it’s in the 40’s outside?

But I did start it on Monday night.  I hate it.  But I’m trying to stick to it.  Finding snacks and alternatives that fit this diet is proving to be a little difficult.  EVERYTHING has soy in it!  I mean dang!  Why do almond crackers need to have soy in them?  Or even regular crackers for that matter!  Also…everything has freakin wheat in it!  RICE A RONI HAS WHEAT IN IT!  It’s RICE!!!  buuuuuhhhh…so I managed to find gluten free spaghetti pasta thank GOD.  And ate some turkey spaghetti with garlic and mushrooms under a mountain of sauce since I can’t have my Parmesan cheese anymore.  Okay I was about to start droning on about which restaurants I can’t eat at anymore, but you get it.

eeeeeehhh…this is going to be a long rest of my life.  Or at least until I have a baby.

 

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