Tents and Repentences

Here I sat, enthused in ways I usually would not admit to about posting my (some somewhat retroactively taken) picture of this weekend. In my belated style, I missed the best photo ops of both companions and cuisine, but got some clutch shots near the end there of Emily (sad face at our leaving), Rebecca (beautifully pensive), and the chard (rainbow, lush, lovely) that we picked in Embo's garden right before we hit the road. Then I arrived home and, after searching high and low, can find no trace of the cord that connects camera to computer. I fear that I might have put it in "deep storage" (the drawers on the side of the bed aligned with the wall) where I have relegated all the things that might be important and sentimental but have no place in everyday life. My version of "spring cleaning." This, my friends, may be problematic. However, never one to quit so easily (at least not when there are more pressing things that I should probably actually be doing on the horizon) I will search further, and reserve the goodies of the weekend (including but not limited to naked men, good beer, wholesome fun and Charlene Mounce's hand-ground brew) for a time when I can show and tell. Natalie gets points for first real posting, and I hope all the rest of you feel the need to "plus two" (or four, or six, depending on what you some up with) on the ever-running tally by following in kind. Till then...