Day fourteen

First thing this morning, Zig Foot (because he could roll a joint with his feet) wanted to know how long I’ve been married, 28 years. He wanted to nominate my Lyle for Sainthood.  Bob said he’s not afraid of bears while camping with me.  Gandolph said, “Damn! That was you?”

Then the mess of them discussed giving me a new trail name. NOT FUNNY!

Apparently they were insinuating that I snore.

When the Arkansas boys showed up, they had carried beer up from town and left an open one on the table when they went to go get water. Should we drink it? That would be mean. I hid it behind a hanging sleeping bag. Well, when Zig pulled down his bag he knocked it over. It was a prank gone bad. We just set it back on the table and no one said a word.

Those Arkansas boys couldn’t keep a fire lit. It was up to me to keep it going all evening. When they passed around the pot, they didn’t offer me any- mature older woman persona, intact.