As per, the GFH3’s bright, shiny new year started with a bang, and then
got all muddy. Paint in the Ass and Greg
were reportedly hungover; the other 38 gathering for the hangover hash seemed
not to be – though jury’s out on Tastycakes, who arrived wearing ‘last night’s
make-up.’
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| Happy New Year!! |
After a brief brief from the Shiny Sisters, Air Horn pulled the...
fuse? trigger? string? on Rough Cut’s cannon to create a loud explosion, everyone
leaped and yelped (well, I did, anyway), and then a few people started jogging
slowly up the street. Very, very
gradually most of the rest joined them, running, jogging, walking – even broken-toed
Norm, who made it about two houses down on his crutches and then turned back to
the On In. Speaking of busted body
parts, when did the Mufti get that hip replaced? Sometime in the late spring, wasn’t it? And there he was, climbing over the fence
into Frying Pan Park like he didn’t know there’s such a thing as a recalcitrant
joint. Blazing Straddle, aided by her
cane, played Frisbee© with a chance-met sheltie named Duncan, and Suck Squeeze
Bang rested up back at the On In, readying for the day she resumes kicking ass
and taking names.
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| Shiny and bright - don't know about new. |
 |
| BANG! |
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| Getting at least a little bit muddy. |
The walkers wandered the park, meeting few or no baby cows despite the
sign out front, abundant sunshine and a brisk breeze. The runners got a longish trail with wet bits
and stepping stones and gentle undulations, and finally encouraging marks that
read, “BN,” “Quiche Near,” “Mimosas Near,” and “Bloody Mary Near.” And they were all true! Back at the house, not only were the quiches,
mimosas and bloody Marys (Maries?
bloodies Mary?) abundant, but also:
breakfast bread (Eat it Raw braided dough around sausage, cheese and
other stuff, to loud popular acclaim), bagels, chips and dips, orange slices,
coffee, cinnamon rolls and cookies. Way
to start the new year off right.
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| Food! |
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| Drinks! And more food! |
Mufti roll-called; Gale hit double 5s, Moaner got to 965 or 966 or 967,
Raphael made #1. We hope to see him
again, but he lives in Lorton... Mufti
himself is at 1,489, and advised Moaner to ‘get a life.’ Hmmm.
Mufti paid gracious tribute to our swell hosts and their helpers,
leading the crowd in a vigorous and well-deserved round of ‘hip hip, ON ONs.’ Nobody sang “Auld Lang Syne.”
We need a host for Saturday!
And
the following Saturday!
Perhaps one of
the
folks pictured in the photos here will volunteer. (The baby cow munching grass at FP Park as the hash adjourned will not.)
Mufti reports that BC3 has been scouting
trail a bit, but should they really have to host once a
month?
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