And I need to keep it all in my memory bank. Time to shoo out some of the crap and make room for all of the new, wonderful memories, to add to the old beautiful ones, too.
Friday night. Blankets in the back yard, under the stars. Shooting stars. Signs. Then the biggest sign of all, the blue fireball that streaked across the sky. So freaking amazing.
Saturday, building the fire pit. From the rocks that Chip and I had gathered so many years ago, waiting to be built into a wall around the pond that we never got around to putting in. Now they are used. And it is beautiful. They all fit so well, perfectly in fact. We worked together, just like Chip and I always did, and loaded those rocks on the back of the pickup. And when we placed them, they looked so good. I know we had guidance. And then you pointed out that the spot we chose was perfect, and that he had made sure we would choose that spot by making the grass so much greener in just that one spot, catching our attention. Gathering the kindling and the wood from the old corn crib, perfectly split and aged and ready to go. Then a quick run to the grocery store because someone left the milk out all day. Raw cookie dough, devoured on the way back home. Then the cinnamon fire water. Never had anything like that. And it was magnificent. Then we lit the fire, and it was the most wonderful, beautiful thing ever. And we sat beneath the stars, the light of the fire shining in our eyes. Warmth of the flames, coupled with the warmth of the liquor. I laughed because you were sweating. Or was it because of the effects of the shot I had? Amazed that I could stomach that stuff, that it didn't taste half bad. That I actually enjoyed it. And Chip was with us. Laughing. Finally used those damn rocks, didn't ya! Roasting the metts and the marshmallows. Then going back in when the fire was burning low and tumbling into the warm bed.
Sunday. Rainy day. Cool. Good day to just sit around. Lazy. French Toast!!! You know....... Then I went out in the rain to try to coax Buck to let me go for a ride. When I disappeared into the woods, you put on your shoes, ready to come rescue me. But Buck was too clever, and didn't let me catch him. So I came back, wet. Ah, well. Then watching TV, talking and we baked the rest of the cookie dough. Yes, I guess you are right, they are better baked, all warm and gooey.
Of course, I have left out some of the details. I hope that my memories will remain. The things we said and did that are just for us. And I won't over-analyze. You are teaching me that.
Love always.
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