1) Context: Four adult siblings (RT and his three sisters) and their sig. o's and kids, matriarch, and patriarch and his sig. o. Middle-of-Nowhere, NY. Two cabins on a lake. 20 degrees Fahrenheit, plus wind chill. Effing freezing for me, "not cold at all" for the Minnesota contingent.
2) If you're a math type, you're going, "Wait. Six guns, seven cousins. Huh?" Why it worked out: Cousin E is a thirteen-year old girl and--as befits a girl of her age and temperament--was wearing inappropriate (for battle, that is) attire. Her micro-miniskirt and high-heeled boots made it unseemly for her to climb the ladders into the lofts, though she was wearing tights. So she got to be Ammo Girl--collected darts that fell short of their targets and returned them to the shooters. One time she forgot herself and climbed too high up the ladder. Her older brother S--who had gotten her that skirt for Christmas, incidentally--shouted, "E! Clothes!" and rolled his eyes and shook his head, "Gahd!" (He's from Minnesota.)
3) Ammo Girl reminds me of J. A few years ago, RT and I went to J's bat mitzvah, where she read the Torah, led the service, and did her parents proud. At the party, she wore a knee-length strapless dress--all grown up. Except that, being only thirteen, she didn't know how to wear that dress and sit on a chair and be lifted above people's heads. Clearly, no one had thought to coach her. It wasn't dreadful, but I don't know how the videographer captured that iconic dance or whatever it is discreetly. Anyway, what a great metaphor for being on the cusp of adulthood.