I’ve always wanted to document home, but I never put gas on it like I did last summer. I admired my mom’s garden at its peak. I took my dad to a snowshoe baseball game. I rekindled a friendship with old childhood neighbors that moved north. We ate blueberry pancakes in the morning and laughed until we cried. We took canoes across the lake. I attended a lumberjack competition. I entered a pie raffle, no dice. I put back plenty of Spotted Cows and made nice with the table next to me at a Friday fish fry. I talked to two separate guys grilling burgers - one off the back of his ATV and the other in his trailer, wearing a pig hat. I stopped at a lemonade stand operated by a family of 7 in the middle of nowhere and stayed a while.
I feel like my most memorable experiences in life are in the form of slow stimulus. One thing, then the next. Wisconsin does it so well. The cup nay overfloweth, but always perfectly full.
