The bow of La Llorona and the moon at Burning Man. Photo: © tablehopper.com.
Hello fabulous people. I have returned from the wild dusty yonder—well, barely. It’s Monday evening as I write this and I’m actually in the Grand Sierra Resort in Reno for the night, taking a break from the long journey returning home from Burning Man. Yes, I am planning to shower at least four times before I hit the road again Tuesday morning, and I’m going to need an airlift to get out of this bed. Cleanup in aisle seven!
My sister and I had the most memorable, fantastic time taking our father to the playa for his first burn. It was our eighth year, and one of the best. He loved it in so many ways, and it was great to see him tooling around with us at night, his trike all lit up in Italian colors. Fortunately sis and I kept our promise to our mother to return our father home in one piece—we had to swear not to break him. I can definitely see where I get my love of people, partying, and carrying on—our father is the original party animal (his custom grappa travel bar with eight of his housemade infusions proved to be very popular). And you know we ate like champs, scarfing down caprese salad, homemade posole, salumi, fava bean spread, and plenty of espresso.
Since I’ve been out of town and gloriously off technology for a week, today’s missive doesn’t have that much news since I need to catch up—next week will be more back to normal. I hope you had a great Labor Day weekend, and wish me luck with all this cleanup! Ay yi yi. Dust dust dust.