This will be another non-beer post. I'll get back to brewing shortly.
From 1970 to 1972, I spent some of the best years of my youth. Those three years, I worked summers at the local Boy Scout camp; Camp Mattatuck, in Plymouth, CT. I worked in Scoutcraft, teaching boys the various skills of Scouting; handling outdoor tools safely, building fires, cooking, recognizing stars. etc.
I'm now 61, and those lessons I taught, and learned, have stayed with me throughout my various careers and ventures.
I recently had the opportunity to reconnect with that past. An organization called The Mattatuck Volunteers puts on an annual dinner at the camp. It's partly a fundraiser, and the money is used to maintain and improve the camp. It's also a chance to see old friends, and catch up on each other's lives.(https://www.facebook.com/CampMattatuck)
I had the chance to see old friends I had stayed in touch with, and re-connect with some who had drifted away. I can't find anything bad to say. The atmosphere was relaxed, the company was wonderful, and the dinner was delicious. In short, it was an evening I'll always remember, at least until next year.
After dinner there was a silent auction and a raffle. (OK, there's something bad. I didn't win anything!) Prizes were all worthwhile and fun, and there were plenty of winners.
As we went our separate ways for the night, I was struck once again by a thought that keeps re-occurring. My last year working there was 1972. My last year in Scouting was sometime in the 80's or 90's. After all this time, that place, and that organization, still have a hold on me.