Campfires. There's just something about a campfire - even, for the "non-camper". Chances are....if you build a fire, throw some chairs around it, bring some smore's fixin's and a few hotdogs.....I'll be there.  This very thing happened Sunday evening.  Everything was great until...the two "incidents". 

Incident One: A few people cleaned out some Jalapeno peppers straight from the garden, about 15 feet from us, filled them with a herb and cream cheese mixture, wrapped them in bacon and roasted them on the campfire. I sat back and watched and ate my Sour Cream and Onion chips, that had been sitting in Tammy's car for a couple weeks I think.  Anyway, I don't eat HOT.  Rarely ever.  But, my friend Tammy took at bite out of the Japapeno Cheese Dealy and loved it.  She says - Kris, you'll love it - great flavor and it's not that hot.  Ok, so someone passes me one.  I bite it.  I begin a slow death.  It was not in fact a Jalapeno Pepper.  It was a Habanero.  Yeah.  Do you know how hot Habaneros are?  Once I finished screaming and carrying on and the first layer of skin on my tounge had burned off, I grabbed for another Mikes Hard Lemonade - Mike just laughed at me.  Didn't do a thing to kill the pain.  Meanwhile, Tammy and the rest of the gang are looking at me like I'm quite the whimp.  UNTIL, I passed Tammy the rest of said killer pepper.  HA.  Told you it was hot!  Yaw-Za.  Seems they now remember that there were a couple Hab's thrown in with the Jalapenos.  Nice friends, huh?

Incident Two:  If you build it, they will come.  We determined that right?  But, if you bring makings for smores, they will be giddy too!  In the dark of the night, I roasted my marshmallows over the fire until they became perfectly browned and gooey....OK, actually our friend Tammy roasted them for me because the first two fell into the fire when I wasn't paying attention.  Now then, with the perfect Smore's in hand, I take a big bite....Oh yeah, my hair is going thru a "big" phase.  Not as big as 80's mall hair but bigger than the straight hair I was rockin' a year ago.  So my big, long hair somehow got into the "way" of the Smore's bite and well, marshmallows don't come out of hair very easily.  I was a goo-ball.  My hands were sticky. My face was sticky.  And after I drove home, Hubby's steering wheel is sticky.