I am in the country, fighting off small red squirrels whom I have witnessed planning attacks on my tent for snacks.  They have teeth, claws, speed and a fear factor.  I have size, vocals and the determination of a hungry person.  I am at summer camp with my son.  We line up for food three times a day, and I find myself accomplished in the act of bribery.  “I will give you one blue gummy shark and sprinkles on your ice cream tonight if you eat one banana, and 2 glasses of milk.”  He doesn’t like the chicken nuggets.  He doesn’t like the pasty looking pasta.  And he looked at the red jello in bowls with cool whip on the top like they were headless chickens.  I have created a monster, and I am proud of it.  I have been eating lots of nearly transparent canned beats, chic peas like candy, lettuce, cereal and tea.  I empty half and half plastic packs into my milk to try and keep the weight on.  Today they served a vegetarian chili and I ate enough to scare my close friends and neighbors.  It is a wonderful camp.  There are people I wouldn’t trade knowing for the world here, but the food, dear Lord, the food, makes me appreciate with my whole heart, my soul, my liver and my tongue the joy the food I have been blessed to cook and eat.  (I know I am going to Hell for being an agnostic at a church camp, complaining about the food.)