In a townhouse far far away . . .

When you live in a townhouse on an island far far away in the middle of the Pacific Ocean your relationships consist of close neighbors and distant relatives. For instance, if you break a glass, you will immediately receive a string of shout outs from the rows of open windows, Everything okay? to which you reply at the top of your lungs, No worries! I'm fine! On the other hand you could break a leg and your relatives may not get wind of it for weeks.

Townhouse living bears certain responsibilities and rewards. There are no membership dues or co-op fees, but there are unwritten expectations, and compliance brings harmony in the hood. One of those unwritten expectations is that you must know how to party like a rock star. On top of knowing how to party like a rock star, you are required to plan one annual party, (like a rock star). It's tricky, but with a little patience and a lot of email manipulation, it can be done.

Though I recently remarked that we spend most of our time here stressing out about life, and very little time partying, we did make an exception yesterday for our annual Labor Day party which my generous neighbor has deemed a Frampton bash.

We complied and all's good in the hood (fo' real).

So my friends, neighbors and the Countrymans, if you want to see what you looked like yesterday in your bathing suits, just click on the slide show at the top of the page and it will take you to my Labor Day Party web album.

For those of you not on an island far far away in the middle of the Pacific Ocean, before you look at all of our neighbors in bathing suits, please fill your heads with cozy thoughts of crisp air and cute sweaters and burnt amber leaves and hot apple cider, and keep in mind that the heat is h-e-double toothpicks-ish over here.