So, here I am in Lancaster, worrying about Kate, her injured ankle, how she's doing, where I might generate a sale, what I'm having for dinner..... shall we just leave it at worrying. Suddenly my daughter texts, and no, she is not supposed to have a cell phone, that the amazing chef Mr. Wilkie has tonight served the campers pork tenderloin, potatoes, veggies, and yogurt parfaits for supper. And now Kate is waiting to go to "spa night." Where do I sign up for Camp Springmaid Mountain? Pork tenderloin and pedicures for my and thirty other thirteen year olds. Why did I think she may be 'roughing it' just a little? There is 'dee-cidedly' something wrong with this picture!
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