288 | 78

Today was like the first day of summer.  It was seventy-five degrees.  Everyone on our little circle was out, milling around–chatting, yard-working, playing catch, grilling.  We put up our swing set.  Carter and I went for a bike ride.  Brayden and James jumped on the trampoline with their shirts off, cause that’s what cool guys do.

We had to dig through the garage to get to our grill–but it was totally worth it for the chaivetta’s chicken and hot dogs.  Because, well . . . who doesn’t grill summer food in the middle of MARCH when it’s seventy-five degrees out, but still winter?  In the midst of the cleaning, we had to wheel out riding lawnmower out of the garage.  For three years, James has been saddened by the fact that he could no longer mow the lawn on a riding tractor with Brayden on his lap.  He used to do it all the time when we lived here before.  Brayden was only about a year and a half, and he used to fall asleep while sitting on James’ lap.  So today, James was like a little kid on Christmas–he started it up, and asked Carter if he wanted to go for a ride around the yard.

James is really going to appreciate that I’m posting these, since he’s wearing the most awesome shirt he owns.  Doesn’t matter though.  The memories are what matters.