Date: Tue, 3 Jan
1995 23:18:49 -0800
>> Something to look
forward to next month, then...and surely by then the SD
Writer's block, no. Bills, work, and ten days' worth of personal business (not to mention email) left undone, yes. Communications of Adventures in the Wordsler Zone, forthcoming, but not necessarily immediately, with the exception of the narration below.
>How was the bonfire,
Sharon and Bookrat?
It was a Zen bonfire; or, if you will, it was a virtual bonfire. To recap (for the benefit of non-Zoofesters), seven doughty Wordslers achieved the House of Bangkok and the Great "How Spicy Is 'Medium'?" Feast. Of these seven, five of them wimped out and declined to go bonfiring, even though the night was relatively young and the weather was perfect for a bonfire. These five piled into the JMWagon, and their adventures have been related in the Official Report.
Meanwhile, Sharon and I piled into the Zipermobile and, having procured the necessities (i.e. firewood and--and we almost forgot this--an ignition source), headed out to a beach she knew somewhere in the La Jolla area. Alas and alack, there were no fire-rings on the beach, the presence of which would have permitted bonfires and the absence of which effectively forbade them. (Either the fire-rings had been removed or, possibly, they were under the extremely high tide of that night.)
Were we daunted? We were not. We sought yet another beach (there being no shortage of them in SD); but we were yet again thwarted in our quest for fire-rings.
Were we dismayed? We were not. We spread the blanket on the beach, and sat down upon it, and partook of cake and cookies, and watched the ocean roll in and out. It being a moonless night, the waves were illuminated only by starlight, and by the reflected lights of the city above and behind us.
We spoke of many things; the day's events and company figured in the discussion, of course, as did Wordslers both near and far (was there any doubt?), but many other topics were covered as well.
We walked up the beach for a ways, and then walked down the beach for a ways, and as our perambulation neared its sadly inevitable end, we discovered the single fire-ring still remaining on that beach. We laughed at the irony, but (the hour being late, even for night-owls such as we) we were not tempted to start a fire, it being a time for ending and not for beginning.
It was, all in all, "a pleasant walk, a pleasant talk/along the briny beach".