When we arrived, Faye and Rick along with other friends were out in the yard playing some kind of game; I have no idea what it's called. Lawn chairs were scattered about; bottles of booze and mix were set out on a table in their relatively new and still-under-construction garage; food was in the house and a pork roast was on the barbecue. When everything was ready, we filled our plates buffet-style and carried them out to the garage, where we sat around two tables and chowed down.
Then there was birthday cake:
|Almost 50 and still younger than the rest of us.|
Two of the gals were a little speedier than the rest of us, and when they turned around, one of them said we reminded her of a famous photo of the Beatles — something about the way we were spread out across the road. She borrowed my camera, which was hooked onto a belt loop on my jeans, to try to get a picture of it. The end result was not what she was aiming for, but here's the pic anyway:
|Left to right: me, Faye, Carol, Scott, Rick posing as walker.|