And what a joyous occasion it was. The afternoon was oppressively hot, but a brief rainstorm passed politely through, staying just long enough to cool down the evening and provide us the most stunning Virginian sunset. The barbecue man fired up his grill and fed us the most delicious, tender, and juicy pulled pork sandwiches and barbecue chicken. The live bluegrass band kept things lively and everyone had a good time. I would do it again. Just not right away. (See below.)
And the rest of the weekend in Washington was even better. The Captain and I drove back up to Georgetown, where we met his enormous little brother the Rookie. The Rookie was in rare form, but he probably doesn't want me to share the details. (Hi, Rookie.) So the Captain and I took a walk, where I was reacquainted with Georgetown and the lush environment (read: oppressive humidity) of the Eastern Seaboard. We covered a lot of ground and ran across some interesting people, namely a homeless man who yelled at me for "[wanting] to be white." I had felt bad for him until he made it personal.
Later, I had a little too much fun at dinner. I can tell you about that in person. But it was great to see Samir and Laskin, and it was even better to witness Laskin's acquisition of digits. Even if she was a crazy.
And the Captain humored me, again, in my insistence to see the panda. (Kaz, that would be the actual panda.) The Rookie wasn't as excited about (read: he was horrified by) the idea of going to the zoo. Which is too bad because he totally missed out.
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