I suppose I could. I suppose the way to get farther and farther behind is not to try to catch up at all and to give up on this ever present threat to my sanity. But I'm pretty sure it's important. The bad thing is, it's only been six months since this particular trip to St George, and looking at these pictures makes me realize how hard it is to remember. So if I don't remember six months ago I give myself zero hope for remembering much of anything in the future. My brain has turned to a pot of goopy mush. I blame the children, as I (rightfully) do for all bodily breakdowns, for surely they are responsible.
I do remember that Steve brought his family for the weekend, and that Phil was also there from Korea, so we decided to hop down there and jump on the chance to rendezvous with those cats.
I do remember it was an unusually fun trip, complete with a late late late game night. Can't remember the game, can remember laughing so hard I couldn't talk. Literally, it was my turn to talk and I just simply couldn't say anything because I was laughing so hard. I think it was at Tim's expense.
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