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Campfire Girls

S picked me up at the airport, and so the adventure begins. We stop by her house, have an Old Fashioned, and go to an Indian restaurant. We love all kinds of food, and this food is excellent. (BTW, one of my favorite things about S is that when she sees girls who are too thin, she yells out, “Eat a sandwich!”)
We had talked about making a campfire during the week, but the logs at my house are wet. What are we to do? We head to 7-11. No firewood. Then to Food Lion. No firewood. Then to Lowe’s. No firewood. S had gone into all the places while I parked illegally. I was staring at a large printed sign at a hot-dog stand place that said, “Try our Reuban.” I couldn’t believe the spelling and wanted to make fun of it when S showed up. Mainly because I knew she’d laugh. I’m wondering to myself if she’ll find firewood and if we’ll be able to have our campfire. Then I see a guy walking out of Lowe’s with a 2 x 4 over his shoulder and think, “We’re having a campfire.”
We go to the lumber section and have Cliff cut us four cheap pieces of wood into 16 logs. This is perfect! Or maybe we’re just crazy. It’s hot and humid, and we’re building a campfire. Crazy, perhaps, but not completely insane. (At least not yet.) To offset the heat, we make frozen margaritas and peach daiquiris. We grab our drinks, lather on the bug spray, and break open the Packers chairs next to the campfire. Life is good. Does It Get Any Better Than This?"

posted by agiawb | 7:37 PM