langoustine du murauskas

I left for SD about an hour later than I wanted because I was slow getting out of work because it was the end of our fiscal year. This put me at the camp site at 1:30 am and in bed in the back of my car, so's to not bother the others with rustling up more comfortable sleeping arrangements.

My Saturday was for my intents and purposes about 15 hours long from 8:30 to 11:30. There was an hour and a half of swimming (the first hour between 1:00 and 2:00, with no sun screen, the remainder at night with the "bear moon"* coming up), another ninety minutes of reading, maybe an hour eating, so that leaves 11 hours for bean bags and sitting around talking. I would say that I easily played two dozen games of bean bags on Saturday.

Sunday was a bit lazier. I got up an hour later and took another hour to get the bags going. Then after just two hours of bags, I helped roll out the dough to put the spiced burger in for the fleishkuechle. After that point, I read some and stewed in my own selfish juices, wanting the frying of our masterpieces to begin so that I wouldn't have to get back to Lincoln so late.

HERE'S SOME ADVICE: If you're camping with thirty other people, any personal agendas you have might want to be put on the back burner if you want any inner harmony.

What can I say; I'm selfish. I should have seen the church sign in Columbus earlier: "A chip on the shoulder indicates wood higher up."

Ultimately, I had a lovely jaunt back to Lincoln, with my orange moon as a companion and thirty miles of entomological orgy that is field after field of lighting bug mating on Hwy 81 north of Norfolk. I'm no A.S Byatt, but I think these gatherings should be called "insex."

* I say "bear moon" because it was a blue moon (second full moon in a month) and was also orange because of atmospheric interference, hence blue and orange at the same time just like my Bears.