Some things are just better by lantern light.
Communal dinners of grilled everything.
Toasting and tasting just-bottled vintages, and admiring the freshly-printed labels.
Hand-mixed margaritas so fresh and smooth that they seem innocuous, so strong that they prove otherwise.
Singing and dancing around the campfire to Fleetwood Mac (later, no one would own up to whose iPod contained the plethora of 70s tunes that got our tushes ashakin').
and I'm still afraid to view the video clip that apparently resides on my camera.... [sheepish grin]
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