And I’m absolutely pooped. The trip was grand, the signing was grand, the after-shopping was grand, and the road trip there and back was also grand, if warm (the Impala doesn’t have AC). But now I’m home, and I didn’t take any pictures or anything, which is just as well because I’m cooking supper and unpacking and generally doing the kinds of things that are multitask enough without adding “typing coherent thoughts” into that mix.

But Richelle took pictures and posted a write-up. And I know that Mark took pictures too, but he hasn’t posted them yet, so I can’t leech off his productivity.

Anyway. That’s all I’ve got for now. Supper is calling and so is a nice hot bath, but I don’t think I’ll combine the two. Yes. Well. I hope you’ve all had a weekend as packed with silliness, camaraderie, and martinis as I did.