350/365 I'd like s'more, please

I'm admittedly a germophobe, especially at this time of year: cold and flu season. And when you work in an office, in fairly close quarters with lots of people, sickness spreads rather quickly.

So I'm conscious of touching door handles. Copier buttons. Conference-room and lunch tables. Refrigerator doors. You name it, I'm aware of my hand on that object that may have recently been touched by someone carrying seasonal germs.

It's a little obsessive, I know. And my hands, worn raw by washing them dozens of times a day, show it.

But here's something ironic. My parents had a bonfire going on Friday night after dinner, so I grabbed all the s'more fixings -- graham crackers, chocolate bars, and big marshmallows -- and headed out to join them.

I found a dead limb, broke off a five-foot branch, and speared glorious, toasted marshmallows.

Bottom line: it doesn't bother me in the slightest to eat a marshmallow off a stick, which may have a little dirt and bark still stuck to it.

I guess it just proves that I'm a country girl at heart.

Camera: Canon 40D, 1/60s, f/4.5 at ISO 1000 at about 6:45 p.m.