Camp Tomahawk Reunion

So my phone rings yesterday, and I answer it.

"Hello, this is Dianne."

"Dianne, it's Greg. Will is in town, and I flew in for the day. We're over at Wally World if you want to join us."

Like I do every year about this time, I drop everything and drive to wherever my old pals William and Greg tell me to meet them. In the early 90s, they lived in a cool house -- Camp Tomahawk -- on the Severn River in Arnold. My friend Dave was their third Muskateer, and I was a semi-permanent fixture on the scene.

Will left for a United Nations job in Eastern Europe in the mid-90s; since then, he's bounced around the globe with the UN, the OECD, and most recently, USAID. Greg married the former Lori McRea -- after I introduced them at Dave's summer solstice party -- and moved to the Chicago burbs to raise their three beautiful daughters. Dave also got married and became a dad, though he still lives on the shores of Burly Creek. And me... well, I suppose you know that story.

It was fun to relive the old glory days, but I don't think any one of us would trade our lives now to go back to that freewheeling time.

Dianne