Bucket O’ Summer

So, people. I have just realized that our summer will be crashing to a close in exactly six weeks. Six. Weeks. That is 42 blessed, lazy days until we are right back to the Pledge of Allegiance and algebra. Sigh. I am trying my best to stay 29 forever, but the calendar conspires. Still, there…

Priority Tension

It is summer.  For a brief season, all of us bound by school-year schedules are free; visions of swimming pools dance in our heads.  Lakes and camping, beaches and sandcastles, supper on the patio.  The hours ahead seem endless, which the kids are quick to pick up on.  "I'm boooorrrred," whines across the country.  We…

Chillax.

Camping is when the weatherman said 65 degrees but the thermometer says 35, or the weatherman said 70 degrees but the thermometer says one hundred and freaking fifty two.  Camping is when you lay aside all of your modern conveniences and hearken back to the day of lugging water, rubbing sticks together, and peeing in…