Buckeye, on the fly, corned beef on rye, why oh why Nocal Nodermeet

Dear Mumsie:

Such nice people I have met today. My traveling companions arrived in a delightful vintage Mercedes. The door was held for me. I stepped inside to sit down. It seemed as if the miles outside flew as smoothly and seamlessly as the conversation within. It grew warmer and drier as we drove through the Northern California countryside. The journey ended at a charming home. I was greeted by mine host who had a bloody wound marring his noble brow. It had been sustained while chopping wood. His axe had been stuck into a stump on the ground that had been erected for the purpose. He complained of it being dull. Undoubtedly he will look into having it sharpened in the very near future.

I set my hat and gloves to the side as our host invited us in for tea. The tea was hot and strong. Traveling can be wearying and I must confess I was grateful for the opportunity to sit and watch the wildlife in the gardens while we nibbled on biscuits. I had been introduced to cassorwary and czeano. Our hostess grundoon was just as lovely and gracious as reports indicated. I was comfortably seated next to panamaus who takes tea without milk or sugar.

Smells of cooking perfumed the air. Red wine was decanted. The white was chilled as is proper. Creamy butter sat scandalously near the garlic herb bread. The meal was a sensual assault conspiring to please even the most discriminating palates. Bread was broken. Wine and conversation flowed freely. Butter sandwiches were discussed and consumed with smiles and laughter. The strawberry garnishing my mojito had just disappeared when our hostess announced that it was time for the ladies to retire. We freshened up in the powder room as there were likely to be photographic opportunities and I did so very much want to look my best for the occasion.

Later on, a cheeseboard was served. I found the Ritz crackers and rosettes of jalapeno Cheez Whiz to be both attractive and nourishing. Previously I had inspected the kitchen and found it to comply with kosher rules. The table had been scrubbed and cleared. The sacrifice was placed in the middle and all ceremonial conventions were observed. Since we were nearly nude the blood was unable to stain our clothing. A dishtowel mopped up the one spill but that was so slight as to hardly merit mention. I call it to your attention only because the versatility of towels as a garment was also a topic of conversation.

My hosts were so generous - I fear I may have over imbibed because I am unable to recall who suggested the orgy. Backs were scrubbed in the communal bath. My bubbles were lavender scented and my washcloth was snowy white. It was so nice to have other people around for those hard to reach areas. There was another occasion for towels as we dried ourselves. The sacrifice had been cleared. I assumed that duty befell our host who had prepared a lovely fire for us to enjoy.

All good things must come to their eventual end so I must conclude this narrative. I am posting this on my return. I imagine its arrival will calm your nerves as I know it is a mother’s duty to be concerned for her offspring but rest assured mother dearest; your fears were all for naught. The wine was red, the blood was fresh, mine host and hostess were most gracious and I look forward to an eternity of toothsome gatherings such as the one that lingers in my mind.

I have gathered my things for the trip back. The night is dark but I have a manly arm to clutch on my way to the vehicle. The scent of roses grows stronger as we make our way out. I do not recall viewing the home from this angle previously but I am drowsy with sleep and drunk on wine. I tripped on a vine. The undergrowth is thicker here. Now we are in a large clearing. There is a fire burning. I am so cold. Oddly enough I am naked again. Is this significant? I think not. I laid down for a moment. The freshly washed axehead gleams wetly. A coppery odor drifts through the air. I wish

Just a NoCal noder party - nothing to get excited about, unless you count the fire	Cassowary	the world of memories	Everything2 Gatherings: 2008
infused spirits	Not quite nude hiking	E2 Gatherings	Girls Who Looked Under Rocks
Kaddish for Frank Perdue	We Didn't Start the Fire	The naked woman raises herself on her elbow and continues her monologue in the direction of the bath	rolling hitch
Goldschläger	Leaving on a Jet Plane	Eddie Izzard	We didn't trust the net, so we played Rust instead of trapeze.
November 17, 2008	Pink sweatshirt days	Close Family	The day I traded my mom in for a robot
Electrolyte imbalance	E2Hons Nodermeet of Doom