Map of Camp

Actually, Bungalow 1 (WC1 above) looks closer to the ramada than Bungalows 2 or 3, don't you think?

More Camp Lomia Video Tours

This is the Kitchen and Ramada tour...

West Camp Video Tours

Here's a video tour of Bungalow 6, and it's almost identical to the rest of the West Camp Bungalows.

Camp LoMia Living Quarters - the Bungalows

We will be staying in West Camp - which means we get the bungalows. Keep in mind these aren't resort quality... but they're fun just the same! Each Bungalow has picnic benches, an outdoor hot plate, and a storage cupboard on the front porch (beware of mice). The front door is split in half, so you can open the top and leave the bottom half closed. Pretty cool!

Inside are 3 separated "rooms" (no doors) with screened-in windows and enough bunk beds to sleep 10+ people. Feel free to move the beds around. There are shelves and a place to hang your clothes if you want. It also has a ladder leading to a small loft with a board that opens like a window (tons of fun but no railings and no screens up there - please watch your kids!!!).

And these are the Bungalows! We have 6 Bungalows to choose from, so each family can have their own if they'd like or they can double up if they're lonely. :) There are also large platforms that you can pitch your tents on if you'd rather not move in on top of the bugs. If you have a preference on which bungalow you get, let me know. Otherwise, first come first served! (The Bungalow number is listed below its picture.)

Bungalow 1

Bungalow 2

Bungalow 3

Bungalow 4

Bungalow 5

-CLAIMED!!! This one is mine... since I'm the leader, and I say when we go...

Bungalow 6

And here are the platforms. Honestly, if you have an air mattress or a cot, these could be really nice!

Above: Platform in the center of camp

Above: Platform at south end of camp

Above: Platform at north end of camp

Here's the platform looking up from the base... since the railings are semi-sparce, again please help your children to be careful.

Camp LoMia... Here we come!!!

Ok, so I'm going to put all rumors to rest. We do NOT have to hike to get into West Camp. We DO have a kitchen with commercial grade stove. We can NOT have pets. And it's going to be great!!! I visited West Camp yesterday and took all the pictures and videos that I think you'll need to get familiar with the grounds.

The view from West Camp is just BEAUTIFUL!!!

It's very hilly and rocky, so bring good, light-weight, hiking/tennis/sports shoes.

When we first drove in, it looked like Bungalow 1 at the bottom of the hill was really far from the Ramada. I

told Mom and Dad I felt bad for the people stuck in "outer darkness" with their itty bitty fire pit. Bungalow 6 is at the top of the hill and has a huge fire pit close to it, so we began joking that about the "celestial fire pit", the "lesser fire pits" and "outer darkness".

As it turns out, Mom and I counted our steps and Bungalow 1 isn't very far at all (it's only about 150 steps to the Ramada from Bungalow 1). But I thought I'd share the pictures with you anyway.

A look at the "Lesser Fire Pit" above and the "Celestial Fire Pit" below.

And there's the view from the Celestial Fire Pit! Beautiful, ain't it?

Murdock it up.

What the heck does "Murdock it up" mean. Well it means to fix something. Usually with some form of tape. As a result of the repair job, it worked, but was not usually the most ascetically pleasing. Most often, the kind of tape is gray tape or black tape. You see, we class the kind of tape used by the color (I blame Mom for the color thing). Others would say duck tape (gray) or electrical tape (black). But Hey! It works!

The phrase actually originated by a cousin. Brent Murdock, Uncle Larry's son coined the phrase when he was talking about a patch job his dad did. He said, "Well you really Murdock-ed it up". We ended up adopting the phrase because it was just so .... explanatory.

Pass the Carrots

One time at dinner, we were making light hearted conversation. I think it was turning into a sarcastic jab fest at one another at the table. The banter turned to teasing Dad. Dad did not respond, he pointed with his whole hand and just said," Pass the carrots". Nobody did. We just kept at the ribbing. Again, Dad responded with pointing his hand down the table and said again, "Pass the carrots." A third time it happened with Dad muttering loudly, "Pass the carrots." At this point the participants at the table began to realize this was an elaborate way to say "No comment" and change the subject. Thus the phrase "Pass the carrots" became a way of avoiding an answer without actually saying "I'm not answering that!"

You Gonna Wreck It?

As teenagers, my Dad was very generous with loaning out his vehicle. He would just say one thing, to which you HAD to respond correctly, or just forget the car thing! The question was always, "You gonna wreck it?" The answer was of course, "No sir!". Dad would then hand over the keys and say. "Well then, OK." I certainly was NOT going to wreck the car. That would just be wrong!
It was a good trick on Dad's part. It kept the thought in my mind to be careful because wrecking the car was Not an option.

Crack of Dawn

"We will leave at the crack of dawn." Sounds like a simple task. Even plausible. But then, you have never tried to go on a camping trip with six, count them, six girls. Each with a suitcase, plus a backpack, with a cosmetic bag, a sleeping bag, some sort of sleeping mat, an activity bag and a pillow. Then come the other essentials. Kitchen stuff, table, sink, food, dishes, wash tubs, tin foil, tooth picks. Then we have to come to the camping essentials, tent, umbrellas, shovels, rakes, tools of every make and size, hammock, etc... and the list goes on. So here we are, everyone is packed and ready for the trip the next morning. We put all of our gear by the front door because Dad is going to play puzzle games getting each piece of equipment to fit just right. He then ties it off in a masterful web which can not be undone, unless you are the Dad-Man. The Plan: Load the car starting at 4:stinking 30 in the morning. Then we can all load into the vehicle by the time the sun cracks its first rays in the dusky sky. As luck would have it, everyone overslept. It is now 6 am and the first hint of light is on the horizon. Then each girl has to get into her makeup bag, because we have to look beautiful to ride in a car for three hours to get out into the natural elements of dirt and dust. It is now 7:30am. "Wait! Don't load the suitcases yet." someone has to repack her suitcase because she forgot a jacket. 8:15 am. Oh and the backpack has to be repacked because "she" got out her Book of Mormon the night before and did not put it back. 8:45 am. Oh and then someone has to get back into her makeup bag to find her toothbrush to make her teeth sparkly after eating breakfast, which we did not have time to do in the first place. 9:45am. So, finally, Dad is allowed to put all of the items into the back of the truck, suburban, SUV or whatever and begin tieing it down. 11:30am. It is time for family prayer and potty business before we load in the car. 12:18 pm. It is officially the "Crack of Dawn". We can leave the driveway and embark on our journey.

This was inevitable every time a big or small trip was being undertaken. So when we would ask Dad, "When are we leaving tomorrow?" He would say, "Crack of Dawn." We would moan and complain because in our hearts we knew it would be Noon-thirty before we would be on our way.

Bragging?

I remember when we were kids, I was taught by society not to brag. Bragging was too boastful and full of one's self, thereby being selfish . It was really hard too, because, being young I KNEW I was good at certain things. And I really wanted to tell everyone how wonderful I was. Well, thanks to dear old Dad, I got that opportunity. When we were at home we were aloud to brag. Dad would say, "You can brag. You are at home." It was nice to have an outlet where I could toot my own horn, because I really was good at some things. Now if I can just remember what they were...

wickeditte

I'm sure you all know about the wickedittes. They are anyone that Dad thinks is "NOT NICE." Let's see, there's Laman and Lemual in the Book of Mormon. And Cain of the Old Testament. There' s anyone of the wrong political party. And then of course we can't forget those "four-eyed dinosaurs" on the road, or the too many people on the internet making it go "too slow." They are the news anchors, people with a whole cart full of items in the ten item line, post offices that close on time, and all the people that don't do "righteous things." Yes, we all know about those "wickedittes!" And when he sees this writing, he'll probably say, "Why that wickeditte!"

the TL

We have a fun little family tradition called a "T.L." which means "trade last." It means you trade compliments.

The catch is, it has to be something that someone else said. So this is how it works:

I tell you that I have a T.L. and then you have to tell me a compliment first.

(Remember it has to be something someone else said)

And you can't tell who originated the compliment.

Then I can tell you the compliment I heard.

Burping Queen

As teenagers everyone thinks they are very funny when they burp. This was especially true of Jannie. She and her friends would have burping competitions where Jannie would rise victorious! There was always speculation that she was so good because she was such a great singer... using that diaphragm and all. Her great talent became widely known. Her reputation even followed her up to girls' camp during the summer! During a few minutes of down-time at girls camp, Jannie and a few friends were gathered enjoying their conversation which turned again towards belching contests. Bishop Magnusson happened to be walking by and one of the girls dared Jannie to challenge him to yet another burping contest. So, the challenge was set and he insisted that Jannie go first. Okay... BUUUUUUUUUUUUUUURRRRRRRPPPPPPPP!!!!!! So amazed was he by her skill, he sheepishly declined to even attempt to compete. As Dad put it, "Jannie, The Gold Medal Champ that sent Bishop Magnusson down in flames and packing." Congratulations Jannie!

Murdock Family Initiation?

Right after Chris and I were married, we went with Jannie and Charity and Summer (I think that's who we went with) to one of Chris' friends house to sing. On the way back, Chris sat between Jannie and I in the back seat. When we got back to Mom and Dad's house I hopped out of the car on my side and Jannie climbed out on her side, but Chris was fiddling with something in the car still. I went around to the side where Jannie had been sitting and Chris was still leaning into the car with his backside kind of sticking out there, so I gave it a little slap. He suddenly stopped what he was doing and said kind of tentatively, "What are you doing?" To which I replied, "I'm your wife, I can do that." Then Chris turned around and looked at me and started laughing and said, "I didn't see you come around, so I thought you were Jannie." Before he found out it was me, he was baffled at why Jannie would do that--was it some kind of initiation into the Murdock family or something? We had a good laugh over that one.

Mom the Master Chef Extraordinaire… and Magician… - By Dad

As you all know, when I was required to fix dinner for the kids, the only thing in the cupboards was some kinda cereal like sugar frosted flakes, sugar puffs, cheerios with sugar sprinkles on top or bite sized shredded wheat. The only thing in the refrigerator was milk and the only thing in the freezer was ice cream… (and if we were lucky, some chocolate cake was leftover from a day or two ago that Mom had made)… so the kids were fed, they loved their Dad but the Mom-Lady was terrified.

She said that there was food in the house and all I needed to do was take a little time and effort and the kids would have a nice meal… ok… I put it/her to the test.

The next time she did dinner I went to look to see what she would make dinner with…. Shur-nuf, there was nothing but the cereal, milk, ice-cream, no chocolate cake… so I said, “Ok, let’s see you make dinner with nothing but this.”

Well, 45 minutes later, the call went out that “dinner’s ready!” Ok, this I gotta see…

Holy Smokes! The table was set with fine linens, dinner plates, knives, forks, spoons, goblets for water and juice, a center piece of flowers, all the nicest serving dishes, including the gravy boat with wonderful brown gravy! There was steak, potatoes, green beans, corn, salad with croutons, lettuce, tomatoes, carrots, and salad dressings! There was water in the carafe and juice in the pitcher, bread and butter (bread dish, butter dish and butter spoon included), and a chocolate cake in the oven. Amazing! Magic! Unbelievable! How’d she do it? Ok… did somebody sneak out to the store, the neighbors or something?... Nobody knows… it’s a mystery to this day, how she did it then and how she does it even now, still.

Well we ate like kings, queens, princes, and princesses and were very thankful for a grand meal and a Mom that was the best cook and a capable magician. We loved it then and still do today. I’ve often wished that we’d kept a cooking book of “Mom’s Meals from Nothing”. It would’ve been a best seller for sure. Mom still makes the grandest of meals. Me? I know where the cereal, milk and ice-cream should be, if some-one didn’t forget to buy some… The chocolate cake? We will always be dependent on the Mom-Lady for that… as she is all goodness and kindness… ya know….

Murdock-isms

Grammar and speech take an important role in society as a whole - not much differs with Murdock culture. We have a culture of our own! Most of us call it Murdock-isms. Mother always tried to teach us proper grammar (like things don't happen "on accident" - they happen "accidentally"). Dad on the other hand has his own language. Basically, if you can contort the syllable to sound like something else, or add a slight Enlish accent and "-ski" to a word, you can speak Dad.

For example, we had a little white DATsun car (normally pronounced "DAHT-sun"). But when Summer dimpled the cah-ski (car) in a wreck-ski, Dad helped Summer buy an Isuzu ("EYE-soo-zoo, normally pronounced "IH-soo-zoo") truck so she could get-ski from her job-ski back home-ski. She may park in the "GAY-rahge" (garage), and come inside to get her jam-skis (pajamas) on. Then, she may decide to call her boyfriend. What was his name?... Oh, Dad knows! His name is Bruce, Bruiser, or Bonzo Billy. That was the name of any boy that his girls brought home.

But aside from the Dad-language, there were many a words that I used growing up that I quickly learned were NOT in general circulation. The word "booper", for example, is a semi-refined term for passing gas. But when I used the term at elementary school and my friends looked at me crooked, I realized this was a term for home-use only. Later, in 5th grade, I was mortified when my best friend decided to nickname me "Boopers". I gasped in embarrassment everytime she said it. She couldn't understand why I despised the name so... that is, until last recess when she wouldn't stop calling me that aweful word. I told her what it meant. This of course led to fits of laughter from our group of friends, and I became the brunt of a whole slew of crude jokes. Thankfully, this was shortlived. But it is only one of the many Murdock-isms we have in our family culture. There were others like boap, thunderations... well, you get the idea.

BeauthiKiss

Little Sundee was a darling little blond girl. She sometimes struggled saying some words. One such word was Beautiful. Sundee in her two year old speech said, "BeauthiKiss". Since then, the older kids would say things like "oh what a beauthikiss flower".

The Boap

Jayson was a master of word manipulation. He even had a wonderful phrase for the heal of the bread. I do not know how it came into being, but Jayson created a craze for the end of the bread by hollering, "I get the BOAP!". Then we would all fight over the heal. For years I thought that the end of the bread was called the boap. When I was at friend's home and they were going to have the heal of the bread, I would correct them by telling them it was the Boap! Thanks Jayson.

Character

There was a phrase that went around in the Young Adult circle. It was used to describe a young lady, specifically a BYU-CoEd, that was rather large and not the most eye catching. People used to say, well she really does have a sweet spirit. Which really meant that she was FAT or UGLY... or both. Well, that phrase is really well known, so in order to talk about someone with out calling them a sweet spirit (aka- ugly) we needed something else that would get the same point across, with out causing the offending party to understand. Then the phrase "they have character" came up. Chance began to used in place of "sweet spirit", because the person (this can now be used for both male and female) was of such good character - meaning ugly. But without causing offense.

So, when someone would say something like "You're nose has such character", they really meant "Your nose is ugly!". Chance shared this little tidbit with his brother, who began to use it all the time.

The perfect nose

When I was a young girl, maybe a teenager, I had a complex about my nose. I had an enormous bump on the bridge. I had always wanted a tiny nose, something like the one Sundee ended up with. But no, I got Grandma Tryon's bump. Mom always said it gave me character. Ya'all know what character means - ugly! So I used to dream about the perfect nose. I even came up with a way to see what it would look like. I used to stand in front of the mirror in the bathroom. I would position the mirrors so I could see myself from a side view. I would place my thumb, pointed toward my forehead right on the bridge. As if I was doing a fingerprint. It would cast a shadow that would eliminate the bulge and create a perfect ski slope from my forehead to the bridge and down to the tip of my nose. Now that was a PERFECT nose. I have since decided that my nose is not worth the cost of plastic surgery. Plus it really is not a large nose. It does not have a big ball on the end or anything. I guess you could say I found peace with the face in the mirror.

Bow and Scrape

Several members of the Murdock clan had gone out to Grandpa Murdock's for Fathers day. When it came time to open presents, 14 year old Adam was given the privilege of handing Grandpa his gift. Adam did not just hand him the plate of cookies, he flourished into a bow, on bended knee with the offering above his bowed head. "That's right, show some respect". Adam always did have a flair for the theatrical. Grandpa, of course accepted the offering with a smug smile and a look to say, "For Moi". He took a cookie with his little finger so graciously stuck out and smacked his lips a loud one. Grandpa then took a generous bite. Thank you Adam.

Princess Natalie

A few months back, Little 7 year old Natalie was playing with 5 year old Matthew. There happened to be a rather large pile of laundry on the floor, heaping quite high. Natalie had perched a small plastic chair on top and placed herself in the chair. Natalie had proclaimed her self the pink princess, complete with pink crown, pink wand, and pink sunglasses. Matthew was the Old King, Slave boy, Prince Charming, and so on. Natalie was giving orders to the slave boy who had been trying to climb the mountain to become the Prince and rescue the Princess. Well Matthew did not quite make it to the top and tumbled about half way down the hill. He beckoned to Princess Natalie to "Help!". To which Princess Natalie replied , "I can't be bothered with you. I'm a princess".

At least that is how I remember the story being told.

Two Face

Sabrina is two. Very two. The other day we were shopping and she was being Cranky Pants. Whine, sob, scream, whine, sob, sigh. All directed at me. However, as soon as some stranger, usually a woman, walks by she quickly yells out, "Hi!" Then she smiles and waves and is so cute! The woman usually says "hi" back and something to the effect of how adorable she is. Then as soon as the woman is out of sight she is back to whine, sob, scream, whine, sob, sigh. This happened at least four times. We did a lot of shopping that day so it might have been more.

Giggle Girl

Mallorie is our giggle-girl. She laughs at everything. In fact she has an excellent fake laugh if the situation requires it. When Mallorie was a toddler she and Brice would fake laugh back and forth until all of us were really, sincerely laughing. Laughing so hard that someone actually snorts. It's always a debate about who snorts first, but usually it's Mallorie. Then that creates another back-and-forth game of who can snort the loudest or the funniest. Yet again Mallorie out-shines me with her incredible skill. But it is a stiff competition between Brice and her. However, so much laughing is going on that not much snorting is being accomplished. Usually when Mallorie winds up for a REALLY big snort, it falls flat! She's laughing too hard.

No Screaming

One night when Mallorie was 3 years old, I was chopping a very ripe onion for dinner. Tears were streaming down my face and I could feel my mascara dripping off my lashes. Mallorie heard me sniffling and tenderly asked, "Mommy, are you okay? Are you crying?"
"Yes, Mallorie. I'm crying, but I'm okay. Don't worry."
"Oh, Mommy." Mallorie said and walked out of the kitchen.
A moment later she came back in with a kleenex for me and said, "Here you go Mommy. You can cry, but you can't scream."

Red Dinosaur

When Jayson was on his mission, he gave me one of the most memorable gifts from my childhood. He sent me a Red Dinosaur Backpack all the way from Canada! I was probably 5 years old or so. It was so special, I would make sure to keep it safe from any external damage. That meant that I didn't use it to take my things to school very much--only on special occasions.

Time and time again, someone (like Tara!) would try to convince me that this wonderful backpack had lived a wonderful life with me, and it was time for us to part. And yet, the Red Dinosaur has remained alive! How could I get rid of this precious keepsake my very own oldest brother sent me from such a far land! I still have this wonderful backpack--mended holes and all. Every time I see it, I can't help but think of memories I've had with Jayson. To prove it to you, I have taken a picture of it this very day! It's in practically mint condition! Thanks, Jayson!

Silent Killer

Growing up, Jannie and I, such innocent little darlings, took a lot of blame for "boopering." We were always the ones grossly accused of providing the wonderful odor for everyone to enjoy. Well, one evening, many of us were sitting in the living room in Utah watching something on the TV. Suddenly, Jannie and I, who were on the floor, verbally noted this suffocating fragrance that had permeated our noses. The smell came with no warning--giving no chance to vacate the premises before the attack! Accusing each other, then everyone else, one by one, we came to our last culprit. Sitting cross-legged and hunched on the piano bench, with mouth wide open in riotous laughter, was Summer. She had laid the silent killer.

Clean Sabrina

Sabrina is such a helper-girl. For real. If I ask her to put something back, she will. If I tell her to close the door, she will. If I ask her to unplug the tub, she will. She likes to put things away. She like to have things cleaned up. Brice said that we might have a neat and tidy child after all. And she is not even 2 years old!

Today I was mopping the floor and I propped the mop up against the wall while I changed the laundry. Water began pooling under and around the mop. Sabrina happened to be crawling by and noticed the pool. She crawled to the pantry, pulled herself up to standing on the food storage buckets and grabbed a handful of napkins. When she reached the mop water on the floor she began wiping it up with her napkins. She did a really good job. There wasn't much left when I got back to mopping. - True story... You can ask my mom. I was on the phone with her when it happened. Sabrina is so far behind in walking that she makes up for it by being way ahead of the curve with cleaning! (However, she did take two steps last Thursday. It won't be long now...)