The Lot

Realizing it's near summer's end and we haven't managed a single trip up to The Lot with the Rhondeaus, we pow-wowed in the kitchen late Friday night to plan a spur-of-the-moment trip for Saturday evening. The traffic jam up Parley's only momentarily detained us, and O saved the day by busting out "Table Topics," coaxing us through each question.
Mid-marshmallow milkshake at The Polar King in Oakley, and after plenty of odd looks from the locals, (apparently laughing hysterically isn't something them folks do very often) Rich cupped his mouth with his hands and said, "Oh, no! Do you have the keys?!" The typical brother-sister "No!-I-thought-you-were-supposed to..." back-and-forth blame war ensued. But wait! Thank heaven for the Oakley Nagles! (Who laugh often and much, btw). We pulled up to their green house, not more than two blocks away, to find MTN2 and OMN on the grass hunting for grasshoppers amid piles of Hotwheels. Speaking of green, Sara had the green golf and the cabin keys were inside. Defeat. With chagrin, but armed with "Miles and Owen Stories," (after only ten minutes! I'm happy to tell all) we got in the car and discussed options on our way back to Ken's Kash where we had left E, O and Jonny to get "supplies."
In a last-stitch effort, I made a quick call to AEN and then to Sara. A few hairpin turns and a suspicious illegal deer-hunter at-large later, Sara was tossing the beloved cabin keys over a third-story balcony just below the Stein Eriksen Lodge in Deer Valley.
The fresh mountain air and glistening stars at Weber Meadowview were most definitely worth the road rallying. We toasted and roasted, listened to R's "abridged" ghost-stories, played cowboys and Indians (really), took photos in our usual spot (all this betwixt the continued intermittent hilarium) and headed down Weber Canyon exactly on time, (right guys?) We even managed to leave an entry in the cabin journal. For a full Cowboy-Indian montage, visit: MIRABLE DICTU.
Wingapo,
M