Selfies on motorcycles.

Two nights of laying on the grass watching the fireworks.
Picking a spot on the grass next to a small sprinkler trench where every one of the passers-by tripped.
Putting my server skills to the test and balancing a full bowl of watermelon on the back of a motorcycle.
The annual family soft ball game.
Men grilling racks of ribs, and steaks, food and more food and too much watermelon.
Sneaking into pools late at night, getting out quickly when it was too clod.


It's a genius idea to roll up to a firework show on motorcycles, passing the hundreds of people walking, to a spot right next to the park. We set up blankets on a spot right under the fireworks, and when Neil Dimonds voice started to fill the park's sound system with 'Coming to America' the entire park stood up, everyone was on their feet singing "I'm proud to be an American, where at lest I know I'm free. . ."
It was so overwhelming awesome the power of unity and liberty that was shared in Sugar House park that night.
(Maybe that last part just happened in my head, but it really was fun to lay on the grass with some friends laughing and playing steamroller and feeling the grass in our toes.)



My Dad showed up to the family picnic with long crazy hair, he could rock a pony tail right now and it was such a good patriotic look for him.
I love this picture with him and his siblings, it is crazy to think of all the love and all the people these four have brought into this world.
Such good people.
I usually am the first in my family to roll my eyes at hanging out with family, but I'm always so glad when I do.