Once again, even after the eleven hours of sleep I had, I am exhausted. And of course, the trip to Frisco for the last Burning Man hoorah has come and gone. Almost exactly like the building that it was at will be gone as well. Yes little monkeys once again your favorite tye dyed informer has gone and returned, where some fear to tread I might add, to the last gathering of the few, the proud, the freaky at burning man headquarters in San Francisco. This was the to be the last great shindig at said building as the University of California at San Francisco is going to be raising it to the ground and in its stead will be a women and children’s hospital for cancer research I think. Or maybe just a clinic. At any rate it will be for a good cause, and as they (the BM crew that is) knew of the tenuous grip they had on the building, they are fine with it as they knew when they rented the building and are waiting to move somewhere tasty enough for the BMHQ. But I once again get ahead of myself.
This whole moving saga begins, as does most of anything in life, at a hot spring here in California. Well, maybe not everything in life begins at a hot springs, but maybe it should. No maybe, it really should. But I digress. Our freaky buddies had come out from Vermont and we had met them at Franklin hot springs and it was the next day. We were grooving on our early morning soak, weird gas powered RC boats were zipping around the pond and I was getting excited as the next week was another burning man outing I had scheduled for myself. I, of course, invited the freaky buddy to go since it was going to be a one day outing, or so it had been planned that way originally, and he came off with the “why not take the RV?” I ended up staring at him for a bit then said I didn’t think so as I needed to be back for my wife to have the car as she was going to visit a friend a few towns away. Which after I said it didn’t make much sense as she would have the car all weekend and would be free to do what she wanted. So she agreed (what a wifeykins I have I tell ya) and it was on. So as we began to talk, while soaking, it became more involved then when I first planned it. It started with “why don’t we go to Sierraville after the burning man thing dude?” Sierraville hot springs is this awesome hippy sanctuary in northern California where, to keep their non-profit status I think, you have to join their church before you’re allowed to soak. I had been there with him about three years ago and was ready and willing to go back. But once again, as it’s not just about me, I was not sure the wifeykins would be ok with no hubby. Yet when asked the joy that came over her face at the thought of a weekend alone with her kids made her say yes.
So once again I was anticipation.
