I just spent the last hour writing about my little adventure this weekend in Madison, WI. I won't bore you with the details, but suffice it to say, the writing wasn't very inspired. I had a lovely time, don't get me wrong, but somehow, I think you just had to be there.

I mean, if I told you I locked myself out of my backyard and had to hop a 6 foot iron fence by way of the neighbor's 5 foot mesh-on-wood fence while wearing a suit complete with full skirt and tennis shoes while I was packing the car, I don't think you'd quite get the picture.

I don't think I could adequately describe the beautiful fall colors that exist outside of the city, the screaming reds, browns, oranges and yellows of the grasses and trees as they reflect on the lake. I could convey the disappointment of going to the pumpkin patch a few weeks too late, when all that there is left are huge, stinking gooey shells filled with bugs just as poorly as I could recount my joy as I realized that the elk in the animal rescue arm ate rotting pumpkin - from my hands.

Could you picture, just from my description, how adorable and sickening it is to experience an adorable 2 1/2 year old who has seen the movie Shrek so many times, that she knows all of the words, right down to the karaoke version of "Baby Got Back" at the end?

Would you feel the gastric pain I experienced the morning after I ate potato chips and popcorn for dinner with friends from college, with whom I used to perform this culinary nightmare on a montly basis while in college, just 10 years ago? How about the grim reminder that I'm just not as young as I once was?

What about the crowded farmers market around the capital - could you hear the sights and sounds, eat curds with me for the first time ever (they squeek!)?

No, I didn't think you could.

So that's why I'm not blogging about my weekend. It just wouldn't do it justice.