Freedom Rules!!

Kaleb's birthday is a much cause to celebrate having a great brother as it is an excuse to throw a great party. This year Eli and I hosted the party at our Oxford abode. Luckily we have overlap in friends and so who to invite was straight forward. I fired up my cheap big box store grill and cooked brats and burgers and veggies. Some of the crew tossed botchi on the side of the house while old friends sat around recounting tales of Kaleb as kid.
The party had purpose beyond the typical eat drink and be merry. Eli and I had determined that a large group sport like game was in order. At first we discussed kick the can, but no one knew the rules. Someone knew the rules to capture the flag so it became our mission. At dusk we rolled off the front porch and headed towards campus where another crew was waiting to join in the game.
We amassed as about twenty people and divided into two teams: hats and glasses and no hats and glasses. The flags were hidden and the competition ensued with many a mad dash through sprinkler wet grass, daring escapes from prisoner holding, and slightly below average tactical planning.
After the game we sat and talked and caught our breath and discussed the possibility of another game. In the midst of our loiter, Kaleb tossed a small, but loud and bright firework into an adjacent tree. In less than five minutes every campus cop in the boundaries of the university had pulled up looking for the action and a cause to give their evening meaning and purpose. "Do you have any alcohol on you? What's in your bag? Who set off the firework?" Pushy. pushy. pushy. "Leave the Campus. If you come back you'll be arrested."
So we left. Which was fine. We dawdled and meandered back to our front porch. Ben, Ivy, and Jeffe flexed their joke telling prowess while everyone else listened and chatted as the evening wound its way down.

Sunday morning with pancakes.

The Saturday started with preparatory chores for the party that evening. We collected tumble weeds from around the outdoor dining area under the Fina sign, cleared out the tables and rolled out hay to suck up the mud and fill in the holes for a dance floor. In the midst of rolling down the hay with the truck, Sheri, the veggie lady arrived with a truck bed full of greens for the evening's meal. She delivered 4 laundry baskets of chard, broccoli, and lettuce, a box of red potatoes, a box of carrots, a box of onions, and a box of cabbage and squash.
Em and I decided we'd take up the hose and accomplish two tasks at once, washing out the stock tank and filling it for a dip later and washing the veggies. It took about 3 hours to fill the tank and about as long to get through all the greens and about half the onions, at which point we were inclined abandon the shade and our buckets for the sun and the stock tank. Soon it was a ladies party in the tank including all the accoutrement necessary for a garden party--good company, nice weather, and G&T's.
The day meandered forward with a walk through the farm audio tour, a trip into town to pick up pies and visit Gebo's the local feed store.
By 6pm the party started to amass. Powell arrived in his smoke truck brimming with brisket and sausage. Lewis's seed sack lanterns blew in the humid breeze as the band, a local family group in three pickups and a trailer began warming up their 8 piece band. By 8 everyone had eaten and though it took a while to digest and and get limbered up, the dancing began and continued on into the night until we (including the band) were all on the verge of being to tired to clean up. So we called it a night, bagged up the beer bottles and party remnants, and found our way to our respective corners to sleep.
In the morning a slow trickle of folks into the farm house turned into a resurrected party sweetened by Jesse's amazing blue corn blueberry pancakes, good coffee, and all around Sunday morning loveliness.

Friday night on the farm.

Fell asleep last night inside a snare drum as rain pounded on the hollowed shell of a spartan trailer Emily and I slept in.
We arrived at the farm around 9 in the evening, greeted with beers and papusas from the Jorge's kitchen, a roadside restaurant serving up delectable Salvadoran food. We arrived on the front edge of the storm. As we stood in the yard and caught up and met new folks, discussed Israel and the US/Mexico border, crops and weather, while the winds brought the lightening and the rain.
We had plans to camp out under the stars, but the weather soon made it clear shelter was in order. Lewis and Tina had scraped clean the interior of the trailer to use as a gallery space. And, as the main house and the more domestically equipped Spartan were occupied, we opted for the gallery. Road happy and beer sleepy, Em and I hauled our bedrolls in, made ourselves a nest, and fell asleep to the lulling sound of heavy rain on aluminum.