A lot of it has been about bicycles. No helmets. But two on a bicycle built for one. In the rain. After beers and juke boxes. In the sleepy town that we never slept in. It was the mountains. And the clouds. More about the way clouds made the mountains look different. And the trees. And the flowers. There are so many dogs. Not on leashes. Free. Free. Free. Sunburns. The sun always feels so good. Hot dogs. And carrying my jar of sauerkraut on the bus back. Hot dogs need sauerkraut. Birthday parties and cupcake in my hair. Laughing hard and lots of laughing. Dance harder. Dropping her when you dipped her. Poor thing got a black eye. Singing the national anthem. Losing my Davy Crockett hat. Jumping. No it was walking into cold lakes. Getting in a canoe with no oars. Trying to read. Finding better things to do. Dirty feet. Missed love connections. Catching friends and bugs. We traded our drivers licenses and watches. Short summer. Hunting for fools gold and rusty nails. There are feathers in my hair. Partial nudity. Growing up nice.
My summer report