around noon Loki and I arrive at Rick and Sally’s place after a morning cleaning the house and straightening things up. father’s and kids weekend camping trip is the activity planned. Chris will come with Sonja, his 18-month daughter, Rick with Holly, 7, and Natalie, 2, and Loki and I. it is a funny reunion for the three of us — we lived together in what seems to be a previous life-time at 148 Washington Street in Golden. The second-to-last house on the way out of town to Boulder, we would say in the way of directions. nothing like that in this moment — the old place is swamped by California-style tract-housing! now here we are, 18 years later. the biggest change being the presence of parent and child units. but the energy of the weekend is compact and intense, like the history of this relationship, or complex of relationships. formative relationships from a time when life was short yet, waxing, and made with the broad statements of being-in-the-moment. making a start on Saturday, shortly after noon, Rick and I and the kids in one car, Chris and Sonya in the other. the first planned meeting at the Safeway in Frisco. we make that meeting with no problems and stock-up on food for the next 24-hours, the thought weighing on us all in one way or another. it takes awhile because the issue of getting a Hibachi to cook the chicken on. that solved, we make the run to Winfield, Colorado. about one-hundred miles from Denver. in the middle of the Collegiate Peaks region. we find a camp-spot that I had used several times in ancient history. the kids pile out while dads erected tents, cooked dinners, tried to keep everybody happy and safe, and attempted to relax in the splendid location.