Sixmonthary

Yes, it's corny. But aren't we, too?

Bryan and I returned to Mission Beach tonight for a picnic, the site of our wedding six months ago. It was warmer this time around. And we made good on a wedding vow (BO to me) by including ice cream in the picnic. While watching the sunset, a naval warship passed by, and Bryan remarked that you don't hear about wars being waged from sea anymore. I wondered what happened to all the cannonballs.

And that's where the night got interesting. As we dined on Vons deli takeout (I recommend the chicken Caesar pasta salad), we brainstormed a farce about the demise of the cannonball. What had caused it? Could some loony be lobbying his congressman to bring it back?

After the picnic, because our ice cream wasn't quite enough (not to knock it, but is any one form of ice cream ever enough?), we rounded out the night at Extraordinary Desserts. There, over a flour-less chocolate cake with blueberry ice cream, our cannonball story took an experimental turn, and we decided it should be epistolary, addressed to Howard Junker and inquiring why ZYZZYVA hadn't published (verification forthcoming) any stories with cannonballs. The idea came from this post on Junker's blog, but I promise nothing but upmost respect in our letter/literary submission. It will be in the mail soon.