Fifteen people attended Operation Icicle which is few compared to most gatherings I have. Â There were two waves of departure which left a core of six from 1am onward. Â We talked for a few hours and before one friend left we chatted:
Me: Did you enjoy yourself?
Him: I suppose. Â It wasn’t your best gathering.
Him: Better luck next time.
The wood was a little damp, the night rather cold, and the ground a little wet. Â These added up to less than the evening I wanted. Â While cleaning up, one of the guests fell almost directly on my surgical site and I declared a moratorium on fun for the evening. Â I retired for the night smelling of smoke and disappointment.
Maybe Operation Icicle had run its course. Â My first one was in 1999 and I held them regularly throughout high school. Â I stopped in college but returned to having them a year after. Â Of those attending this evening, Rachel had been attending the longest and was the only one from my high school group to still be in my circle of friends. Â For about 1/3 of the people present this was their first one. Â Maybe this history and ritual was lost to them. Â I’ll be moving downtown within the next half year. Â I probably won’t have outdoor winter parties then.