Yes to all the good things folks have said. I'm back home, but my soul hasn't quite caught up with my well-traveled body yet. The rain ended just as we got on site Thursday, and we had the traditional put up the tent at dusk ritual. Thank heavens my three urchins know how to camp. I did more visiting than singing this year, but there still wasn't enough time for all the visiting I wanted to do. The hardest thing this year was choosing between the workshops. Usually it's just hard, this year it was almost painful.*g* On the other hand, I'm a Norman Kennedy addict, so that cut down on a lot of decision making. Camping by the 'Chucks is a joy. 'Nuff said. I brought a commnity six-pack of Iron City beer, just as an educational thing, you understand, and never got around to seeing if they liked/drank/could stand it. As I promised, Mmario, I raised a drink to you. It was a wooden goblet of coffee at the Burrow. My favorite performance memory this year (tied with Jake the Signer) is the Margaret MacArthur and Norman Kennedy workshop on Scottish traditions. At the end, all of us ballad junkies were stompingg, clapping wildly, and acting for all the world like a rock concert audience. It's nice to know you're not alone.*g* Jesus said that Heaven has many mansions, and one of them surely is Creature Comforts for the post-concert singingg. (For those not attending, Creature Comforts is where the staff has the privelege of eating, presided over by Jake Bryan and his most excellent crew. No cafeteria food there, if you know what I mean.) Ah, that Sunday night visit at Dharmabum's camp...sublime. Four good friends sharing thoughts, nobody trying to change anybody's mind (a problem I've had this past year on work breaks). Time is elastic at places like Old Songs, so I couldn't tell you how long that visit lasted, save that it wasn't dawn when the right time came for the visit to wind down. And then, of course, there was the Music...