Among the sprawling conversations L. and I had, there was a bit of fierce debate about the number of times she has joined me in the country. My memory was two, both with Fatty. Hers was three, the first time without him. The blog was surprisingly unhelpful in this regard, at least in part because if there was a first visit sans Fat T. there was no photographic evidence of it. So I really meant to take at least one good photo of L. while she was around. The perfect time to do so would have been when we took a lovely fall walk. Unfortunately I took literally two photographs, both of which were totally not working in terms of focus or composition, and I'm simply not going to post them. The point is that I SWEAR L. was in fact around for this weekend. God. And if I'm lying I'm the person who makes up a friend to eat cheese and tacos with. I am not that person but I can only hope you understand that to be true.