The worst bit first: we broke camp in sleet and freezing rain as our eldest had a nuclear level meltdown inside the tent (she didn't want to get dressed because it was too cold; in her defense it was pretty frikkin cold). So cold that lil Hucky and I had to go into the car and put our hands right next to the heater several times just to keep them from going numb. We had to shake a layer of slush off the tent before we could fold it. With the eldest finally calmed and our soaked tent and sleeping bags packed, we departed camp like wet, bedraggled dogs.
The other bits are mostly good and in no particular order. Climbing with the youngest as she told me about her new friend, an invisible polar bear named Botticelli. Chicken fillets and burgers and brats cooked over a campfire. The girls earning their Junior Ranger badges. A glorious halo around the waxing gibbous moon the night before we left. Coffee percolated over a fire. Learning to belay the girls on the rock climbing wall at the Y the day before we left. Watching the first 5 Harry Potter movies.
Still, glad to be home. The cats missed us. We missed them. And the warm and comfortable familiarity of our beds as well.