Comments on: Singing Out Loud http://www.kamaji.com/blog/2009/02/singing-out-loud/ Minnesota's Oldest Camp for Girls Mon, 25 Jul 2011 17:14:30 +0000 hourly 1 http://wordpress.org/?v=3.2.1 By: Marjena, da-cook http://www.kamaji.com/blog/2009/02/singing-out-loud/comment-page-1/#comment-41 Marjena, da-cook Wed, 04 Mar 2009 00:21:12 +0000 http://www.kamaji.com/blog/?p=187#comment-41 Until the new floor was put in the kitchen the after-breakfast and -lunch songfests were not only heard but also felt in the kitchen as the floor would vibrate with the enthusiastic participation of all in the dining room. One of the yearly events that I look forward to is the reaction of the new kitchen staff to the variety <strong>and</strong><em> the timber of Kamaji camp songs. Even new animals to camp have various reactions to the noise and harmony levels in the dining hall. Veteran Kamaji 'pets' including my pack sense what is about to happen simply by the songs being sung and/or level of volume. In the winter months I'll catch myself humming or singing under my breath camp songs I have absorbed over the years. Faun, my dog, knows that the more I sing, "Kamaji, Hats Off To Thee", surely the car ride north is not far off. I have a harder and harder time leaving the car door open without Faun jumping in, sitting 'shotgun' and refusing to get out. All in all, camp songs are more than just a songfest; they are a part of Kamaji just being Kamaji. Until the new floor was put in the kitchen the after-breakfast and -lunch songfests were not only heard but also felt in the kitchen as the floor would vibrate with the enthusiastic participation of all in the dining room.

One of the yearly events that I look forward to is the reaction of the new kitchen staff to the variety and the timber of Kamaji camp songs.

Even new animals to camp have various reactions to the noise and harmony levels in the dining hall. Veteran Kamaji ‘pets’ including my pack sense what is about to happen simply by the songs being sung and/or level of volume.

In the winter months I’ll catch myself humming or singing under my breath camp songs I have absorbed over the years. Faun, my dog, knows that the more I sing, “Kamaji, Hats Off To Thee”, surely the car ride north is not far off. I have a harder and harder time leaving the car door open without Faun jumping in, sitting ‘shotgun’ and refusing to get out.

All in all, camp songs are more than just a songfest; they are a part of Kamaji just being Kamaji.

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