First of all, I'm writing this post on my lovely Mothers birthday.
She's only a few hours late, our dinner reservations were for 7:30
(currently 7:36) but guess what? It's her birthday and none of that
even matters. So, as I await her call so I can finally go get my car
from Farmhouse 18 and bring my friends' stuff back several hours past
the time I told them I would have it (this will all make sense if you
just keep reading...), I do have a great little story to tell you. It
involves some great friends and colleagues, S'mores and me attempting to
be a sheep dog. Intrigued? I hope so.
Friday night
to Saturday afternoon the RAs from Taylor went away for a weekend
retreat- I wasn't quite sure what the plan was, but it ended up being a
lot more chill and relaxed and not so much setting goals and Title 9. I appreciate a mixture in activities, so I could have gone for a little more content, but I still had a blast.
We
had our retreat at the OSU Retreat House, which is something that
actually exists in this world. It's really an old farmhouse that
employees can rent out for a retreat, the concept is really awesome.
The best part? The sign on the door listed this OSU-owned property as
Farmhouse 18. Do you know what that means? Farmhouse 17 and below
exist as well. Where are they? No one knows.
It was a
three bedroom one bath house with bunk beds in each room (more on this
coming up later) and a nice rustic charm. Because I have the genes of a
45 year old gay man I was automatically planning the space for when I
bought it and lived there myself. I was going to make a cozy seating
area near the fire place while still allowing for traffic around the
room, and I would have made the room we didn't really use the den and
office space. If it was given to me I could make this a really nice
little house. It's only 15 minutes from downtown so I can't imagine
it's real estate value, but I should digress and continue on with how I
ended up murdering people until 3am...
I got you again, didn't I? I keep pulling out all the stops.
We
got settled into the house and almost immediately set out to make
S'mores. I mean, duh? I was running around the property with a miners
light on my head (pictures below) trying to rastle' up sum fire wood. I
eventually was just breaking limps and twigs off of trees and bushes,
but I felt really manly doing it. With several of us babying it, we
finally got the fire to take off. (Genie, if you're reading this,
throwing leaves on the fire didn't help at all. And Katie you gave the
fire too much air and actually blew it out. And Martin I am still not
sure what kindling is.)
So naturally I was already
trying to find some sort of stick to roast marshmellows on, and Taylor
was getting the S'mores fixin's ready (we used the trunk of my car as a
sort of table) and it was on. I made my first S'more with two
marshmallows and was patient and roasted it was it was perfectly golden
brown. It was a thing of beauty. I made my second S'more the same
exact way, but this time I doubled up on the chocolate. So good.
After
digesting all of that I ate 6 more roasted (read: burnt) marshmallows
two-at-a-time right off of the stick. I made this noise each time that I
literally couldn't contain... so good. I think the Native Americans
were on to something in having those fires all the time.
We
played this really awesome game called Murder in the Dark as a group...
the idea is that 2 people are the murders and like the game Clue you
have to figure out who the murder is. I loved it, I think a lot of that
is because I was on a sugar high. Martin made us warm spiced apple
cider (so good!) and I also ate more food. We slept upstairs and my
friends who I shared a room with were all about the pillow talk.
Saturday
afternoon we were ready to leave when I decided it would be a good idea
to go pet the sheep who were in the pasture area near the house.
Well... the sheep were not having any of it, so I was running around and
trying to herd them and such... and I lost my keys. I'm not sure where
they are in that sheep pasture, but I went back today and searched for 3
additional hours and couldn't find them.
The best
part? I realized I left my wallet and my flashlight at the Farmhouse,
and although those aren't really a huge part of this saga I still feel
like the world was out to get me this weekend. Murphy's Law came back
to bite me once again.
On the bright side? I was
able to see my Mom and family twice in two days, I did find my wallet
and my flashlight, and I have been nursing my cold and drinking tea and
Emergen-C trying to get over it. There is a lot more to this story, but
I'm feeling sleep calling my name.
Goodnight friends. I love my life.
Logan