Full of memories, which include:
- Meeting Puff's family
- A huge bed in a palm-tree themed room. What could be more Florida than that?
- Baby Z. A marvel of nature, and also one of its forces.
- The squeaky white sand.
- Catching crabs, the moral way.
- Having a crab catch me, the immoral bastard.
- That back porch and its call to hedonism. The bourbn and smokes were out there, and sheesh - BACATION! Yes!
- Bowling. With a baby. Who is learning all about stairs. There were stairs at Ye Olde Bowling Alley. Turns out? I am the perfect baby Z antidote for steps. Child won't come NEAR me. I stand at the bottom of steps, she turns and runs the other way.
- Becks, and the way one person can make a dozen just chill the fuck out with her hippie-ness of awesomeness.
- Mr P's incredible accent. I swear, he put it on and KEPT it on the whole weekend. Sounded just like a real Englishman, he did. Like ye do.
- Miss A, the scientist.
- Miss K, the artist.
- Master C, the sportsman.
- Baby Z, Mistress of Just About Everything
- The Things, melding into the Puff Brood as easily as slipping into their own bed. Amazing to watch. So glad to have been able to make it happen.
- Fine sand, warm sun, cold air, happy chaos, good coffee, new friends, OLD FRIENDS, Texas Hold 'Em, big porches, palm trees, clouds of seagulls (not even flocks!), and so much more.
But far. Too. Short.