Thursday, Midnight, June 20, 2002

I know, I know. I should have done a better job, as usual, at keeping pace. What can I say, other than I was on vacation?

Am currently keeping vigil over the kitchen, the first mouse of the season having made it over the threshold and into the kitchen. De-Con has been put down and we are awaiting his mousy friends to party down.

Pam is trying to sleep tonight out on the Legendary Sleeping Porch. I don't know how wise this is, seeing as how I just heard something knock into our garbage cans, which we have set out (dutifully) to be picked up tomorrow morning. At first I thought it might be bears, but then I went and checked, and found it was just some yahoos being noisy in their truck, and disposing of their trash. Hey, at least they weren't littering.

Once again, all I can say is: sovereignty of garbage cans must be addressed.

Just heard disturbing noise, twice, outside that sounded like duck being strangled. Concerned about our intrepid camper, I stepped out onto the back porch. Pam was quiet on her porch, so she's either asleep or beyond my assistance. ("It's too late, soldier! She's dead!" as they'd say in the Army....)

**sigh**

All in all, great weekend group this year - Ryann and Gehan were terrific, Mike and Kerrigan super (the kitten a HIT), Marc and Deb fun as always and Nancy and Leah were swelltabulous. Steve Showed up Saturday evening, in time for the campfire and general merriment (hang on, mouse is fucking around in the WASHED DISHES!!!); it's just that I discovered a few things about my psyche: (1) where Pinecrest is concerned, I have my ways of doing things, and I like to just be able to relax after a few days, and for the love of God, QUIT ASKING ME STUFF by Monday or I'll give you SUCH a look.

Mouse was just ejected in what I hope was a humane, gentle and broom-scooting fashion. He was jumping around on the stovetop (and inside it!) and then popping out underneath the cupboards in a cartoon fashion. He really was pretty cute. I know he really wanted to get back to his cozy spot under the fireplace and hang out with his other mousy buddies, but you know, that's setting dangerous precedent.

I get to stay an extra night, until Sunday - Eileen at work said to go ahead and take the day off on Sunday, since God knows when I'll get another day off. (nervous laughter) Probably Christmas, or at least Halloween. Steve'll be back up tomorrow, at some point, although the rest of the gang is taking off Saturday.

I'm going to do a bit of writing now....You know, the ACTUAL kind.

Oh, and here's a few final words:

The last days at Pinecrest were spent as Steve rolled up (once again, bike in tow, though we did not bike because eh, there's a porch to sit on!) late Saturday afternoon, and we both conked out in our assigned corners of the living room, post-late-lunch, for one of those great afternoon naps. Mine was more the product of sleep deprivation, thanks to the horrifying sunburn I'd gotten the day before, which kept me awake much of the night, and was finally abating in severity of pain. In any case, we awoke feeling the need for root beer floats, but since the Snack Shack was all shut down for the evening, we got the necessary supplies and headed back to the cabin, put on some tunes, and had some floatage. Mmmmmmmm. A nice, quiet final evening at the cabin was had, full of cigar-smokin', polish-sausage grillin', and readin' (yay, Mimi!! Soooo much more productive than I, but so very inspiring!). We also pulled out the laptop and, while I doused the legs with a cool towel, watched a cute little British film called "Shooting Fish" about really nice, polite con men in love.

Those crazy Brits just aren't bitter enough for me, but then, you know, they're British.

The final day, there was more porch-sitting, more cleaning, and more sausage-grilling, before we hit the road and were on our separate ways.

All I can say is: My vacation, my vacation, wherefore art my vacation?