I have semi-, sorta, kinda, but not really got involved with a group of 'retired' Girl Scouts. I think GSUSA has finally begun to realize there is a tremendous un-tapped resource in adults who were active as kids/teens and have good memories of the scouting experience. Not only in the sense of being financially secure to possibly provide monetary resources, but people who are prominent in the community and can trace some of their success to the skills GS wants to develop for the next generation.
I'm not any of the above, but love what GSUSA is doing for young girls and teens. And I certainly have the time to offer, so am available to 'be volunteered' when the Legacy Group wants to plan events that are open to all the area troops. One thing they tried to do in August did not receive community support, so the event has been tactfully 'rescheduled' for a later date.
The event last night was publicized as 'Sing-A-Long and S'mores'. I long ago learned that when you do not attend committee meetings, you are more than likely going to be the person who gets volunteered to do something none of the people present want to do. So I was the Official Fire-builder. I was tempted to go out in the yard and scrounge up some twigs to practice, as my skills are very rusty. I know I can do it, just thought I might need to have a dress rehearsal before I did it in public. But then I thought: "ha! I'm sure I know more about it than those kids" - plus I can get there early and get it started before they begin to trickle in, and no one will know about the secret fire-starters buried down in the center of the pyramid.
Which I kinda, sorta did, even though I knew that the city would not allow open fires in the public park, and we would be roasting our marshmallows on a grill. The only problem was that the grill was just that: mounted on a metal pole about three feet off the ground, with the base embedded in concrete. And the rack/grid for cooking, was permanently attached to prevent disappearing; would not lift high enough to get anything more than good-sized twigs under it to build my fire. I had a bag of real fire-wood, like you would buy for some outrageous price at the grocery store, and had great plans for a Real Campfire. It didn't happen.
Plan B, fortutiously was someone on the planning team brought a bag of charcoal. So after I got my twiggy fire lit, I tossed briquets of charcoal onto the nicely burning pile, they caught on, and it made the perfect little fire for charring marshmallows. There was a sort of assembly line set up, by adults, who were so thorough in their planning, they even remembered pump bottles of hand sanitizer. A little overly cautious for my taste: s'mores are much more flavorful when dropped in the dirt. But every one who wanted: scouts, troop leaders, moms, dads, little brothers, hangers-on, passers-by got loaded up with a double dose of sugar.
Lots of singing, all those camp songs that are so interminable, they make you grind your teeth. I think the younger ones especially had a good time, with listening and seeing older girls joining in, enjoying songs with hand-motions, a thousand verses, watching Girl Scouts having fun. I remembered to take a jug of water to put out my fire when the last sticky face consumed the last blackened marshmallow - as the society columns in used to say: A good time was had by all.
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