Maybe it's the weather, but this Minnesota book club informed me right off the bat they were serving Prevost Princesses for their meeting. Pure alcohol, folks. Here's the recipe for those of you who didn't read the book (and, why I'm encouraging that sort of behavior, is beyond me):

Prevost Princess
3 parts vodka
1 part peach schnapps
1 part raspberry liqueur
1 robust whine (optional)

Recline on couch; command husband to assemble and shake.

This was Tam's first hosting of the book club at her house, and obviously, she has fabulous taste - both in books and martinis, of course.

And now, without further ado, here are Angie, Ira, Kathleen, Kirstin, Renee, Sally, Sara, Sarah, Shar, Sharon, Kate, Tam and Ann:

One of the Sara(h)s said her husband didn't want her to read the book, as she's the one who wants to do an RV trip. (Really? Even after reading the book?) The other chuckled when she read the mention of Homer, AK's lone stoplight, because she was actually living there when they got it. And, sorry guys who roam beaches with metal detectors: Renee said she saw one of you after she'd read the book, and couldn't stop laughing. Perhaps it's because I wrote, "How those things work, exactly, is slightly beyond the scope of this memoir and well beyond the interest of its author, but I’m certainly not the first to observe that these devices inherently attract metal and repel women." Kathleen went to one of my favorite places on earth, Walt Disney World, for her honeymoon. She said most people thought she was nuts. Not I, Kathleen. Not I.

The gals did chastize me for not getting to Duluth on our Queenly trip. I explained that there were many places we did visit - like Duluth - that just didn't make it into the book for whatever reason. (Cape Codders have also chastized me for the same reason and I've had to explain the same thing.) I'm not sure they believed me, so here's the proof: A picture of our bus at the "RV park" we stayed in for our Duluth overnight, aka Chez Sam.

I'm sure you recognize this important Duluth landmark, right ladies?

Really, it's your own fault your lovely city didn't make it into my book: If someone had insulted me, run around naked, or robbed us... As you know, plenty of lesser towns made it in for precisely those reasons.