You'll have to forgive a rather lengthy, rambling letter. Aurel was just forked[^justforked] the four of us are sitting out in Douglas's field along with him, E.W., Debarre, and a few other friends after a small potluck of sorts. There wasn't any real reason for the get-together other than it's snowy at our sim, the skunks were whining, and it's always nice here. What started as a plan for Ioan, May, Sasha, and Douglas having a picnic blossomed on a whim to something of a party.
(Some descriptions of the party; maybe SH telling two truths and a lie about others, Debarre promises fireworks, Vos and AFP set up a bar, Marsh sings a song)
When we all got to talking about memories, Ioan suggested that we start compiling them into a letter just to share them with you. It's a good day, and we should be able to share our everyday weal as well as our occasional woe.
