No, we weren't playing with fire.

Fire is not a toy. As the daughter of my dad, this may not be my proudest moment. But really, we were by a lake, there was plenty of dirt, and it was just a small stick with the end smoldering. Barely any big deal. Anyway, we just had our Relief Society campout at Lake Ki (up in Marysville-ish somewhere). When it got dark, we went and inspected the nearby lake. Did you know that bullfrogs don't make frog noises (ribbit . . . or croooooaaaaaak . . . or maybe even a chirrup if it was a smallish frog). They make horrid cow sounding noises. Gross. We also shone our headlamps down into the water to torment the little crawdads that didn't want to get seen. Back at camp, Tish enlightened us with the joy of writing your name in fire. This picture was taken by Tish, one of our two resident au pairs in our ward. The next morning after a surprisingly comfortable sleep, we had Suzy teach us some great first aid. In short, if you have a head injury, do not try to cut off the blood supply. Loved it.