Jonestown

Last night we had a cookout.  It may be the biggest party we've ever had here at Edgehill house.  I think at least a dozen people were here at one point.  The nice thing about cookouts is that it keeps people more or less clustered outside.  The bad thing is that people never eat as much as you think they will, so there's always a butt ton of food left over.  I could feed a smallish army this morning if one happened by.  

Another downside of the cookout is beer bottles.  My friends all like to drink.  None of them are alcoholics (that I know of), but when you get fifteen or so people together the old glass bottles start to pile up.  Usually after a big party (say, the annual Halloween bash) it's like the Jonestown Massacre the next day.  Dozens of glass bottles strewn about the compound, staying where ever they happened to fall after the Kool Aid did them in, waiting for health workers to pile them into ambulances.  This is what I was thinking about this morning when I woke up.  I was lying in bed kind of dreading coming down and having the easter egg hunt for Sam Adams and Miller Lite bottles.  

To my delight, it wasn't that bad at all.  This was not what you'd call a wild, out of control party.  There are a lot of bottles, but they are for the most part conveniently where the recycling belongs.  I didn't have to collect them from random bookshelves, bathrooms, or hidden inside random boxes, shoes or backpacks (not that that generally happens, but you get the idea).

Sometime today though it's going to be time to play "The Town Alcoholic Goes Recycling."  This is always a hoot, having a VW full of empties that I pile into the recycling bin six at a time.  It always makes me feel conspicuous, like people will be looking at me thinking, "Good Lord, that guy drank sixty beers last night!"  I'm sure they aren't, but still.

Last night was also the second Sneakies show.  The Sneakies are a newish band; this was only their second show.  I saw them at McClafferty's a few weeks ago, but the sound there is terrible.  Last night was a 123 night, so you could actually hear the band, which was both rocking and rolling.  Now if only they would play on a Saturday so Tracy could go.

Epic

When Delia was in kindergarten we started reading Harry Potter at bedtime.  I don't always get to do bedtime.  Work, grandma's house, late night movie nights; all of these have helped stretch a series of bedtime books out.

Seven books over three years.

Thursday night we finished book seven.  It's kind of amazing to me to think that we've been reading this series for so long.  The first five books were re-reads for me, so it was really exciting to get to book six, then the grand finale.  I thought I would feel hollow or let down when we finished, as if we'd reached the end of a really long journey taken for the sake of the trip itself; that perhaps the destination would be a bit of a letdown after the fantabulous trip.  Not so.  Instead it felt more like a milestone.  Tracy and Delia have been through a lot of  books.  Narnia, Percy Jackson...they seem to crank out the stories.  But this is the first that Delia and I have finished.  It's a pretty good feeling.  

I think she wants to go through Narnia again with me, which will be nice.  I've never read any of them.