365 True Things: 223/Full

A full day today, starting with . . . work. Yeah, well, it needs to get done, and I made some headway.

But then the fun began.

First off: GIFF, aka Geocaching International Film Festival (the 3rd and final one). About forty of us met in Bethlehem Lutheran Church's Fellowship Hall to watch sixteen short films about, yes, geocaching. Some of them were very clever: one about a little dog who spends the day caching with all sorts of human friends while his owner toils in an office, then feigns bored indifference when said owner, arriving home, asks, "Want to go geocaching?" One about a Turkish couple who met while geocaching, fell in love, and got married. A Romanian animated feature about all the poor neglected caches out there that get rained on, banged on, peed on, or simply are never checked on (a PSA for cache owners). My favorite was probably the first one, "East of the Summit," about an attempt to find the oldest unfound cache in Washington State, via rock climbing: the Fred Beckey Route on Liberty Bell Mountain (5.6). When the seekers arrived at GZ (ground zero), the cache was not there. But they did get a beautiful view.

Then we dashed home and made an Asian cole slaw for our friend Tim's fiftieth birthday party.

Which was so fun! I didn't know most of the people there—Tim grew up in this area, and I believe that most of the partiers were people from his past—but I knew a few folks (Search & Rescue comrades), and it was great to hang with them. Did a little dancing (which my knee really should have talked me out of, but oh well). Ate some grrrrreat food, centered on pig: wild pig and domestic pig roasted in the ground for a day; appetizers featuring pig, pig, and more pig. (Tim and his partner, my friend Miranda, are hunters, and they love shooting wild pigs—which need to be culled—and then eating them.) And a lot of really tasty side dishes. Not to mention the bourbon bar—Golden Mules, Old Fashioneds, Whisky Sours, On the Rocks (the "rocks" featuring frozen-in oak leaves and acorns, nice aesthetic touch)—though I stuck with wine.

Got home at 9, via the supermarket, and while there—where an enemy's portal was rapidly decaying—decided to play some Ingress. Um, yes, a little addictive. Um, okay, maybe a lot. I mean, it was nine o'clock! And next, having seized the enemy's portal, we found ourselves setting off to the Frog Pond, not just to walk the dog (which typically takes us no farther than the end of the street), but to establish links and make control fields! Our first! In the dark!

My final action was to link "Monterey Frog Pond" to "Every Living Thing Needs Water." Serendipity there, no?

All that will make no sense to any rational person, I know. And yes, even I am a little worried about this new pastime. But . . . it's fun?