Bad days exist even in paradise, apparently.

Today I have:
~ Accidentally kneed Havoc in the face, leaving a bloody cut that has since swollen into a that-poor-child-his-parents-must-beat-him fat lip.
~ Dumped a very nearly full cup of delicious iced coffee into the dirt.
~ Slammed my fingers in the screen door while trying to avoid doing the same to Havoc.
~ Hit my head, twice, on the corner of the closet next to the bed.
~ Discovered an incredibly itchy bug bite directly on too of an incredibly sensitive bruise on the back of my leg.
And it's only 1pm! There's still so much day left, so much potential for my day to get worse!

Yesterday wasn't much better. Among other, less irksome bullet points of the day, a girl downgraded my favorite rock climbs (and one my hardest sends) to a V0 (it's at least V3, damnit), I was finally hungry but only made enough (delicious) dinner for my usual barely-there appetite, and my left wrist blew out again on the first day I've had time+inclination to climb in weeks.

I'm guessing it's the same old unidentified injury; numbness, followed by deep aching pain from my fingertips all the way up to my elbow, and an inability to close my hand or really even wiggle my fingers. Today it's much better, only a little achy, and I have very nearly full use of my hand again.

Havoc is in the worst mood I've ever seen him in. Oh, lord, is it 5:00 yet? Mama needs a drink.

Leave No Trace ethics, or a lack thereof.

Well, monsoon season is upon us here in fair Flagstaff, so we have moved down from A1 Meadow to the Priest Draw. It rains considerably less here, therefor our solar set up is effective, therefor we are all much much happier. Since apparently we've already put the hottest part of the summer here behind us, (suck on that, Texas!) Havoc and I are spending most of our days walking around, exploring the forest around our campsite, and have come across the point of this entry.

Trash.

Lots and lots of trash.

I'm actually, literally, significantly horrified by the amount of trash I'm finding here. Broken bottles, beer cans, food wrappers, cigarette butts, hundreds of shotgun shells, even an entire tent tossed into a low spot! Oh, and let's not forget the television that someone used for target practice. There are soda bottles chucked down prarie dog holes, and toilet paper wads everywhere.

It boils my blood and confuses the hell out of me that apparently, to many, enjoying nature means destroying it. Well I'll be damned if my son grows up to be one of those people! He's being raised on Leave No Trace ethics, and in that interest he and I are cleaning house up here. We have collected three full trash bags so far (seriously), and have only scratched the surface (seriously). And that's just this campsite! We only have a few more weeks here, we don't have the time (or the manpower) to get it all, but by god we're going to get what we can.

Pack out what you pack in, people, and if you come across the evidence that someone else wasn't a good enough person to do so, do the world (and our children's generation) a favor, and pack that out, too. If you didn't leave it better than you found it, you did it wrong.