Today was our last full day here. Although I almost felt sad, I was happy instead. I'll tell you why. It's the peak of autumn. Well, actually not according to the moon and the things scientists call the equinox, but according to the Livi Calendar, which is more accurate, and goes on when the leaves are red. And now they are at their reddest. We all took a walk together in the forest bit today, just a slow walk to look at and enjoy all the colors. They come and go so fast. Today you look up and the trees are orange, yellow, and red, with some still having the hints of green on them. The trees have littered all the forest floor with their leaves. I've always wondered why the forest rangers don't give the trees a fine, but I guess there's just too many of them. On the same note, I've never understood why redheads are called carrot-heads. Aren't carrots green on top?
After the walk, I took Mary on another drive, because she felt left out. We drove by the edge of the forest, and all the leaves were flying behind us as I drove. The DL came too, and it was a lovely drive. There's something also beautiful about going quick, I think, though I'd much still prefer to walk. After these things in the morning, we had lunch, and had a good long talk around some board games and O.J. I've heard that the P.I. called Sage helped track down the board game L lost. Never met her, but I hear she's quite the private eye. DLOKS had a good long talk and shared some devotions and things, then the La Cucaracha reminded us it was time for smores. What would we do without the La Cucaracha?
So we drove down to the forest, and loaded up Mary's trunk with some sticks and branches and dry leaves. Then we drove back to the hill past the kids (who were behaving themselves, and as such required no adult supervision) and to the place where there were the remains of a campfire. I said to K, shouldn't we bury these remains, since they're all just out in the open? But K didn't answer me. He has that same weird eyebrow twitching thing the L and the Pita have. It must be contagious.
We loaded up the sticks and twigs and branches and logs (they're all just tree parts to me, I'm a wooden literalist) and L said I'll get the matches. I said halt L, there shall be no need of the matches, for what we need is an extension cord and microwave. D had a sudden desire for kevlon or fibreglass fashionware. K had a sudden urge to go cower in Mary's back seat. L and S joined him. I said what is wrong with you people. But I suppose I have to be the adult here, I mean someone has to light the fire and it apparently isn't them. So I pulled out the sparklers, extension cord, and microwave, and put it beside the campfire.
T-minus ten and counting. Mary, do you copy? Kingsley, are you ready? D-man, are we primed? L, are you still eating blueberries? Susan, do you read? She does. Usually Green Gables or something.
I pressed the go button. Apollo 911 launched off in a fury of flame. I watched with growing amazement. As the smoke billowed out of the white frame, suddenly there came a WHOOSH! and the hatch swung open, and flame and smoke poured out, and the campfire lit. Command to MDLKS. MDLKS, do you read? This is one small step for microwave, one giant leap for mankind.