Cook Out*

Grandpa's backyard.
Swimming and splashing with cousins.
Hotdogs and hamburgers.
The sweetest blueberries and cherries.
Another successful frog rescue from the pool.



*Seven years in New England, and I still can't get used to calling them "cook outs." I still think of them as "barbecues," regardless of what is cooked or what kind of sauce is (or isn't) on it.