New France in Longmont

The morning after the weddin we packed up and headed for Longmont (a short drive) to spend the day with our friends.

No sooner is my seatbelt fastened, I'm knitting - the baby wrap is unfinished, and here we are headed for the Intended Recipient. Well, she's too young to be upset about it, I am cranking along and even if I wind up finishing it and sending it back I'll have the satisfaction of knowing it'll come in handy in the Colorado winter.

We found the house easily (have I mentioned that Mr Dearling reads maps like other people read magazines, and has an unerring sense of direction?)

Now, we refer to this young man as our "nephew"; he and two other like young lads, all comely, bright, creative and interesting, are fellow Living Historians. We've "adopted" them.

When we came in, we sat down, started talking - and did not stop for twelve hours. Mr Dearling referred to it later as "the 12-hour brunch" and it was! We caught up, we looked at pictures, we discussed books, other friends, Colorado.

The highlight for me was meeting our "great-niece" Aspen. (This picture is going in a frame for my niche at the Museum, by the way.) Oh - and I cannot tell a lie: I shamelessly, whole-heartedly, unabashedly fell in love with another guy too. That would be Roquefort, seen in bliss with his ladies.

Roquefort is a Papillon, and a sweeter member of the canine family I cannot imagine. Jas tells me Papillons are "lick-y"; I prefer to think he loved me back and was kissing me. He's a small dog but has such personality, and he's portable, and I think he's either a tiny person or a cat in the body of a little Butterfly Dog.

During the course of the day, incidentally, they provided delicious comestibles - tomato & mozzarella salad, crusty French bread and wine...and later, Coq au Vin as good as any found anywhere, period. A more delightful day would be hard to imagine, as it had all the components: good friends, good food, companionship, a sweet baby...and Roquefort! I DID, of course, keep knitting. Didn't finish, but I WAS knitting!

We slept very comfortably there...I'd have loved for Roquefort to creep in with me, but he isn't a cat, and doesn't do that. I looked at my purse; I studied my knitting basket; I felt through my pockets - small as he is, Roquefort wouldn't fit. And besides, if he'd turned up missing when we left, I think they'd have known exactly where to look. But at least I had my fuzzydarlinganimal fix.

The next morning we set out for the Rest of the Vacation. What a delicious and terrific day, the Twelve-Hour Brunch!