I'm going to try something new. On Monday mornings I thought I'd post something pretty I've found while exploring the internet. Most of what I'll post is stuff I've pinned - I'm rather hoping this will encourage me to go back and explore what I've pinned and see if the same images still resonate with me weeks or even months later.

How’s that for a post title? While I do from time to time enjoy a glass of wine, in this instance I’m referring to the second definition of the word.

When I moved into my unit the dining room had white-painted wallpaper on the walls and also the ceiling. While not offensive, the wallpaper was starting to peel so I decided it had to come down. This in itself wasn’t a problem. The problem was what the wallpaper was hiding – globs of wallpaper paste, and more problematic, cracks in the ceiling that had been inexpertly repaired. I should have left the paper where it was.

It’s now three years later and I still haven’t done anything to fix this room. I did get a quote a year or so ago for having the room skim coated, but the number I got was quite a bit more than I had anticipated, so nothing got done.

Last week I noticed a couple of cracks in my living room wall that hadn’t been there a few weeks prior, and unfortunately in the past few days they’ve gotten bigger. The wall is also bowing out a bit in some of the locations of the cracks, and this has me more than a little concerned that the wall is about to come crashing down.

Please pass along the names of anyone you know - it would be very much appreciated!

Hi Guys. This post is not anything like what I normally post here, but I wanted to share my experiences at Camp Grounded in case anyone was interested. It's quite a long post - feel free to skip past it if you'd like - Michelle
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Camp. That one word for me means summer adventures in northern Quebec with loads of outdoor activities like swimming, canoeing, learning new skills and making friendships that survived the 11 months until we met again. I have incredibly great memories of my summers at camp, so when I saw this article on the CBC news website way back in March I was intrigued. Summer camp for adults? With the added incentive of forcing us off the digital grid for a few days? Having been accused by various loved ones that I spend a bit too much of my time glued to my phone or staring at a computer screen engrossed in some internet randomness, I thought this might be a wonderful way to really relive a cherished part of my childhood. Because I grew up in the dark ages, the ‘no digital anything’ rule would be just like those balmy summer days of yore, before we all had smartphones, Facebook, Twitter, Instagram and various other digital necessities  procrastination tools. So, doing something completely out of character, I signed up for a summer camp for adults in the California redwoods at an old Boy Scout camp - I was going to Camp Grounded.

On arrival at camp we were met with bear hugs from greeters who directed us where to leave our luggage, and gave us paper bags in which we were to put all our digital paraphernalia (goodbye smartphone, e-reader and DSLR) as well as money, watches and other valuables. As w-talk (work-talk) and real names weren’t allowed I was then given a nickname in a naming ceremony by a guy who hadn’t worn a shirt in years. It was about this time that I had the first inkling that camp was more than likely not going to be anything like the one I so fondly remembered from my childhood.

Camp Grounded was just a few hours north of the head offices of Google, Apple, Twitter and Facebook – so I naively assumed it would be full of tech geeks with that pasty white glow one gets after prolonged exposure to computer screens and no sunlight. While there were quite a number of people there who did work in Silicon Valley (and judging by the cars leaving camp on Monday had done rather well for themselves) there were also a number of people there who could be described as hippies. Later, while talking with some other campers they referred to camp as a ‘Burning Man’ reunion. I was unfamiliar with the term, but apparently it’s a yearly festival in the desert – some say a modern-day Woodstock but without the music. I also heard the camp atmosphere being referred to that of a cult, and jokes being made about not drinking the Kool-Aid.

I enjoyed some of the meals so much I even asked my camp counsellor if it might be possible to get some of the recipes. I didn’t hear anything back about that request which is unfortunate.

Over the weekend I didn’t really miss my phone other than wishing I had it to take pictures and check the time. I brought with me a disposable camera which as you can see from the pictures in this post wasn’t a great substitute for a phone’s camera or my absent DSLR. I was quite honestly surprised at how little I missed social media and easy internet access. Instead I had a lot more trouble with not being able to know in an instant what time it was. I’m not honestly sure if that’s because in real life I always need to know what time it is, or if it was because I wasn’t really enjoying myself at camp and wanted to know how much longer I had until it was time to leave.

When I was young, camp meant doing outdoor activities like canoeing, swimming, tennis and windsurfing. When I saw the Camp Grounded website I assumed that since it was a digital-free weekend the camp would encourage us to do active things – get us pale pasty office drones out there in the world and feel the sun on our skin, and the wind in our hair. While there were some interesting activities like archery, rock climbing, making art on wood using the sun and a magnifying glass, truffle making, tree drawing and bug eating (see this article here to find out why) there were only two activity sessions on the first day – one in the morning and one in the afternoon. That evening when I heard about other campers different experiences there were several activities I wanted to try. It was very unfortunate they were not repeated the next day.

Sunday was the camp-wide activity – Colour Wars, and this one activity completely ruined Camp Grounded for me. We were all divided into teams based on our favourite colour – mine was blue. I was looking forward to Colour Wars – my childhood camp was always divided into two tribes, and throughout the month you earned points for your tribe by doing individual activities, earning badges, and participating in camp-wide programs. At Camp Grounded there were about 10 different colours and after breakfast that morning we all met our groups and were tasked with coming up with cheers, chants, posters, slogans etc. This might have been fun, however the sheer volume of items they asked us to create seemingly took hours to finish. When all the teams reconvened on the parade ground we all had to present the judges with their various cheers and slogans, and we were to be judged on them. This again could have been fun, except the judging was a farce with the judges assigning points in a random manner that reflected only the level to which a team would, to put it bluntly, kiss ass for what seemed like hours as each team repeatedly went up to do their cheers, and fawn over the judges.

Eventually it was time for lunch and we all sat in our teams, and at least where I was sitting, the talk turned to how Camp Grounded was nothing like what had been expected by the campers. There was a general feeling of discontent with some comparing it to being in high-school – the popular kids were the councillors and the chosen few of the campers who knew them previously, and the rest of us were the wallflowers who were being asked to obey their every whim.

About halfway through lunch the judges decreed that as of that moment we were no longer able to feed ourselves, and had to find someone to pair with and feed each other. I, along with some of the campers around me, refused to participate, and continued to eat as before. If a plausible explanation had been given for the request, or if there had been a reasoning behind it, I would have more than likely participated, but the dictate simply to force us to do something for the councillors amusement was despicable.

Once the delay was called a bunch of us ended up at the Typewriter range (the Boy Scouts had a rifle range – at Camp Grounded there were typewriters set up) where we chatted about Camp Grounded, reminisced about our different camp experiences growing up, and when they found out I was going to be playing tourist in San Francisco later that week made numerous excellent suggestions of places to see and things to do. Strangely, along with trying my hand at archery for the first time, sitting around and simply chatting with a bunch of people I didn’t really know, and more than likely won’t see again was one of the best times I had at Camp Grounded. I truly enjoyed talking with them without the crutch of what we all did for a living or talking about current world events.

Perhaps if camp had been located a few hours from home the failings I perceived wouldn’t have bothered me so much, but I flew across country at no small cost for what I hoped would be an amazing experience. Being so completely disheartened and disappointed after spending so much money to get there has, I think, made the negative feelings a bit more acute. I wish it was different, but I wouldn’t recommend Camp Grounded to anyone.

This post relates only my personal experiences at Camp Grounded. If you'd like to read other opinions here are articles from Mashable, The New Yorker, and The New York Times.