Spent a delightful time this morning at the Central Wyoming Counseling Center, where staff competed in the Chili Royale chili cook-off.

Ten bubbling, aromatic pots of chili were judged on appearance, flavor, texture and heat index.

It's my second time judging the event -- last year it was on a Friday during Lent so I declined.

The esteemed panel of judges, excluding me, was Paul Fritzler of the Dept. of Family Services, Bill Sexton, CEO of Wyoming Behavioral Institute; Brian Christensen from the DA's office and Bob Price.

Our oufits this year included green shiny dealer vests, visors, gigantic playing card nametags and garters.

Top three winners again received recycled trophies.

First place was Therapeutic Family Care case managers for their Jackpot Chili, a red that was really good.

Second place was Kelly Shipley for her Risky Business, a red that judges said "looks like chili should look!"

And third place went to Pat Lichliter, for her Hit Me, a red that included chunks of potatoes.

My personal favorite was a green chile that had a huge proportion of shredded pork. In fact, it was like really juicy shredded pork -- just delicious.

Staff at the CWCC gets altogether at least quarterly for a variety of different lunch events.

They've found, as have many other groups, that co-workers who eat together and get to know each other make a more effective team.

Great fun!

So I went to Morp on Saturday night. Sat in the same building where I sat 18 years ago, thinkin' I was gonna die with morning sickness in the morning, morning sickness in the afternoon and morning sickness at night, while covering 15 hours of basketball per day for two weeks during March Madness.

Mouse was with me then, causing the morning sickness and sitting in my lap while I watched basketball, drank 7-Up and ate crackers.

On Saturday night, she was on the floor in her darling little dress, with a boy I had just met, as the lights flashed and the music played.

About the music, I'll say it was way better than the stuff she listens to her in her bedroom.

About the security, and the friendliness of the guys who let me in and answered my questions, I think it was terrific.

And if kids felt more comfortable going there in groups or in jeans than they would feel at their own school's prom, that's sad. But that's certainly not Morp's fault.

Eighteen years apart, same building. Weird in a time warp-Morp sort of way.