As I hugged everyone goodbye last night at around 10:30 to take off for the drive back to Denrock, Nick laid sprawled on the floor, looking beat. His wife, writer Mary T. Kelly, continued to chat with the lingering guests, several who spent the night (and a couple more) on their comfortable farm in Boulder. Just Cathy was there (Mary's sweet sistah); Robin Sneed from Loveland;  J.D. (an original open salonite who no longer partakes) and his wife, Debbie, the realtor; Steve (who's vivatar I can't remember) and his son, from Kansas City; Loren (can't remember her's, although she's the rowdy one everyone remembers); Bruce (Dynomite); Kim (the photographer of naked cats) and Carol/Pretend Farmer and I apologize if I left someone out. It was a great time in the treehouse with Izzi, ice and intelligent and also inebriated conversation. Noticeably absent was Joan, who had figured on coming yet was called back on a salon emergency--perhaps next time, Joan. You missed some fantastic food, music and pretty darn good company.

I'm sure photos will be coming, by those who took them. 

Thank you, Mary and Nick!