|It's summertime, I cannot imagine what caused me to be so distracted....|
July 3rd found LMC and MOM in the kitchen preparing our Fourth of July menu which including homemade strawberry ice cream and baked potato salad. Baked potato salad because it has bacon, scallions, and sour cream. Yum.
We cooked. I took pictures.
I sliced strawberries. She ate strawberries. I measured sugar. She poured sugar. I sliced more strawberries. She ate more strawberries. I measured milk and cream. She poured milk and cream. I sliced even more strawberries. She ate even more strawberries.
|What doesn't sound amazing about bacon and homemade ice cream?|
As we wind down our wonderful time here, we finally got around to seeing a concert on the West Lawn of the Capitol. Actually, it was the dress rehearsal- but so much better than the real thing; a fraction of the crowd, a more relaxed atmosphere, and just bits and bits of greatness.
It was one of those timeless moments; moments that I wanted to stop the clock, freeze time, and encapsulate this moment of family perfection for all eternity. LMC wore a red and white seersucker sailor dress and, literally, ran circles around our blanket with a level of energy never before seen.
Husband walked from the apartment and we were happy to have him join us. As I snapped 285 blurry pictures trying to catch her running, LMC ran circle after circle and making friend after friend.
|LMC while singing the National Anthem-- hand over her heart like Mama and Daddy|
|Isn't he dashing? I think so|
Halfway through the show, a woman came over the loud speaker, announced impending weather, and sent the crowd on their way. We were packed up and off the lawn in under a minute, moving like the wind. As we walked up to the car and loaded the last bag, the rain came.
Even with the heat.
Even with the humidity.
Even with Husband's work keeping him longer than anticipated.
Even with the heat.
Did I mention the heat?
Even with my failed attempts at the fancy camera and the 285 blurry pictures.
It was perfection.
Shortly before the fireworks started, Husband and Wife sat in lounge chairs with LMC cuddling up on her da-dee's chest. As I sipped an O'Doul's and Husband with his Miller Lite, I half jokingly, poked out my bottom lip and said, "MIR! I don't wanna go home." Husband- in his infinite wisdom, smiled, took my hand and said, "Honey, we are home," meaning that while home will constantly be an evolution of our address, home is with each other.
And that's going to be amazing.
I can't remember. This is why I should post these things more often.