This Barbeque happened on Friday August Ninth (today it is the fifteenth). It was a farewell of sorts to my friends, who moved up to Portland two days ago. I didn't take any pictures of them, I don't know why. The Lady was wearing a red dress and a new and well fitting jean jacket; deep blue denim in the lavender late summer. He is tall and fresh, as one often is after a breaking point; new air and new light gets let in through the cracks. Like a newly hatched duckling, downy and happy. And I didn't take their picture. I will have to hold that memory in my mind for always and hope it doesn't fade or that the corners don't curl with age.
I only took pictures of the food. The cake was made by the Lady, and it was the yummiest of all cakes. Gluten free and poppy seeds and lavender. Lemon frosting. To. Die. For.
They've been gone two days and I already deeply miss them.
We're going to follow them soon, in a month and a half or so, and yet I miss them.
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