MaineCourse

Orange Hats

Lunch atop LIttle Boardman Mountain which is at the other end of our campsite on Crawford Pond. Mark and Chris Schreiber and Mark Queijo.

Yes, it was hunting season.

If you look closely you’ll see two missing items. Adam is the most obvious, the pan to cook Jan’s corn chowder (in the large yellow ziplock), less so. I think we’ve done this before, brought soup, the stove, but no pot. I know for sure we’ve hiked miles on only one bottle of wine. Both hardships for the sort of “getting away” we do.

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Peter: “Helen’s back is hurting her again and they sent a new physical therapist, not the old one she liked so much. She tried to explain to this new person how her pain was related to the stenosis, but was told stenosis is another word for arthritis. Helen replied, ‘Oh, I thought stenosis was a narrowing of the vertebral canal.’ “

We both laughed. Some young “chippy” (Roland’s word) underestimating her eighty-seven year old patient. Peter and I have been humbled often, but in a somewhat more gentle, motherly way.

Me” “You know she’s just too aware to put a pillow over her face, isn’t she?”

P.S. Helen's original therapist returned yesterday.

Been there, done that. Also, brought pot, but no stove. Or pot AND stove, but no water. Or worse, only one bottle of Spätlese..........

But look what IS there that ever wasn't -- Chris's surgically-implanted palm transistor radio. Wouldn't'a been a camera I'd'a been aiming at the group..........

Posted by alternate egregiosoties.

What a rich history we have. I forgot about those other permutations of mindless preparation.

Posted by michael.

Reminds me of the time I forgot to bring a spoon.
Or a fork. And the other time I forgot to bring boots.

Posted by rakkity.

Posted by Michael at November 18, 2004 07:11 AM