Camp is (not) in session.

An experiment in unscheduling summer.

It’s been some time since I Substacked. Not that anyone was desperately awaiting my next missive, but the end of the school year came in hot. (Doesn’t it always?) It felt like every weekend in May and June involved at least one dance recital. I was deep in a client project, and kicked off a big revision on the novel I’m working on. Also, I decided my kids were getting too old and I missed having babies and thus convinced my husband to get a puppy. (Correction: He still isn’t entirely convinced. BUT LOOK AT THAT FACE.)

Photo by another excellent neighbor, Denise McIsaac.

Somehow, after all that, it’s August. Which brings us to Camp Magoun.

I’ve bragged before about my excellent neighbors. Last summer, we realized that while all our kids had some unscheduled weeks, none of those unscheduled weeks overlapped. This was tragic and terribly inconvenient. At some point I sent around this delightful New Yorker essay by Jill Lepore about her many summers of staging theatrical productions with neighborhood kids in her backyard. (I used to teach theater; my neighbor runs a puppet theater; a little voice in my head kept whispering, “Could we…maybe?”)

Reader, we did not commit to staging any shows. (2027, perhaps.) But we did decide, back in January—for the uninitiated, this is when summer camp sign-ups kick into high gear—that the first two weeks of August 2026 would be earmarked for Camp Magoun.

Here’s how it works: Under Camp Magoun law, each household covers three days of camp over the two weeks. (On the final Friday, we’re taking a field trip.) The campers, who this summer are 9, 9, 8 and 6, do most of the work. They’re responsible for activities, clean-up, managing their boredom and negotiating their conflicts. They can roam between yards and within certain neighborhood parameters. Screens are off (mostly). The designated Grown-up On Duty (GOD) sets the lunch menu.

Planning their day. Also, butcher paper on the table FTW.

We’re viewing these two weeks as an experiment. Our children are accustomed to playing freely between our three houses, but two weeks of all-day-togetherness is going to be A Lot. This will surely test their patience (especially their patience for the six-year-old) and their appetite for doing everything together all the time. It’s also an experiment in what we can ask and expect of our kids when we remove most of the normal daily structures of today’s well-oiled summer machine. When we tell them to just… do whatever.

Look, I’m not here to bash structure or schedules or planned activities. I love all of those things. My kids spent the last three weeks at arts camp from 9-4 and it was glorious. My older daughter starts most days asking “what are we doing today?” and gets cranky if there aren’t multiple planned outings on the agenda. During the school year, she has dance classes and other assorted activities several days a week, and I’m sure her younger sister will too eventually. She gets a lot out of those activities (we wouldn’t pay for them if she didn’t!). But asking her and her friends to make their own fun for a stretch that might start to feel uncomfortable at times is also, I think, its own kind of summer learning.

Maybe in two weeks, I’ll return with a recap of everything that went terribly awry at Camp Magoun. Maybe (probably) we’ll all be sick of each other. But so far, so good: Yesterday, on a rainy day at my neighbor’s house, they built an obstacle course, made pizzas, and played Twister. This morning, at my house, they made a giant Post-it of potential activities, kicked off their day with a scavenger hunt, and played “Big Ball with Tom” (Tom is the big ball, for those who are wondering). They DIY’d (mostly) their own quesadillas, had a minor squabble over fort construction technique, and took their bikes to the park. I’m still waiting for them to return safely; fingers crossed¹.

Eavesdropping on them—just observing how they interact with each other and the world—is my favorite part of being around these kids, always, and Camp Magoun is of course rich with opportunity for that. As our campers planned their day today, I caught a whispered conversation: “How many weeks do we get to do this?” “Two.” “Yessss. I LOVE Camp Magoun.”

So far, I love it too.

1. They’re back now; Mom, you can stop worrying.