It feels like we need a trip back in time (3 years to the date) when we held 'My Island Migration' party across from 'My Island'. Many memories flood my mind as I remember the accepting friends who came to see my madness firsthand. We played, we ate (including some mini-corn dogs cooked in caRV), we talked, we swam across to my island, and just enjoyed each others company.
More recently I recall re-visiting my island during a retro road trip and feeling the undeniable impression 'create new and better memories'. As good as those days were, we can do better. As stretching as those days were, we can stretch more. I mean how hard would it be to shower a little more often? And thus create a better ending to the following funny, yet sobering story.
A friend and I head out to the river across from ‘My Island’ to prepare for my ‘May 14’ farewell party. We play a little and cook up some grub. As the sun sets we are having a good time reading and talking by the campfire, when somehow amidst the crisp clean air, bubbling brook, flickering firelight, and bright stars lighting the night sky we find ourselves in each other’s arms cuddling—Aaahhh...nice. The cuddling continues until she prematurely decides to run her fingers through my hair. She only makes a run or two when she voices her horror “My hand’s getting all greasy and oily!” Blah! Of all the days to skip a shower (or two), “Oh, yeah. I haven’t showered in a couple days. Sorry.”
