It's been so blasted hot that we spent all Sunday in Lake Creek, the mint-lined stream that runs through a meadow near my in-laws' place. Lake Creek isn't shocking meltwater anymore, and it's not overflowing anymore — when I floated it with Sasha, our float bumped the bottom. It was pleasant. It was calming. My husband and I lounged on aluminum lawn chairs we set in the creek, drinking PBRs while the kids splashed about.
Does that sound hopelessly white trash? Well. So be it. I shall teach my children noodling.
5 comments:
If that's white trash, count me IN.
What Mayberry said. It sounds divine.
What is up with all the PBR?! That ad campaign to the NW is working! Gah! Abort! Abort! You have an almost infinite number of local brews and you choose PBR?! What are you... in high school?
"mint-lined stream" is such a writerly thing to write, I think. I love reading your blog *sigh*
PBR is cheap and plentiful . . . and less filling.
Wish I were there. Wish I had been there for the rainbow!
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