I'm in a small cabin, which is where all the campers have breakfast. Tables and benches are arranged haphazardly along the walls of the small space, as though not intentional, evolutionary, like the building wasn't really made for this purpose. There are people sitting in groups at the tables.

I've brought a reusable shopping bag with me, and I check it to see what I have inside. There's a big can of rolled oats, and a stove to heat water to make oatmeal. I'm just looking for a place to set out and cook it, and the only place I see is rather cramped.

As if helping me get set up, noticing my shopping bag, somebody asks me, "is that a kit, or did you just buy it at Trader Joe's", and I answer "neither, I just used the bag".

Through an open doorway, but still pretty much in the same room just a smaller part, I find an open table with plenty of room for my cooking, and sitting beside are my brothers Joe and Dave, having their breakfast. Great, that will be a perfect spot.