My Summer Kickoff

After an inordinately long winter and a negligible spring, the arrival of Memorial weekend and the promise of summer was anxiously awaited. On these long summer weekends I leave any cares back in town and head to my Dad's house. It is often described as our "little house on the prairie," because it really is just that. It sits in the quiet farm country of western Wisconsin and is small, comfortable, and boasts a cedar porch that spans the entire front of the house. My sister and I love bringing friends home to this house, where we spend the time barefoot, eating plenty of food, and playing games on the rolling lawn. There is no agenda, and nothing is too serious, too planned. Days are meandering and lazy, and a "night out" includes a trip to the brewpub on main street and a campfire once the sun finally goes down.

The purpose of my blog is to talk about my cooking adventures and things I like to do around my apartment, but Memorial Day weekend was meant to be the opposite of that; it was about not really cooking and not really doing anything of any importance. So, I'll just show you what I did (or didn't) do with my Memorial weekend. 

This is what I see when I sit in my favorite rocking chair on Dad's porch

Look left and there's the rest of the porch. The clouds rolling in herald the coming storm

My favorite "room"....feet up with something to read. It's my little piece of heaven on earth

Admiring the petunias going to town in the hanging baskets

The color is so vibrant!

I captured through the front screen door my sister's roommate's cat Lily, another weekend guest, sprawled out on the kitchen floor

Geraniums in the big urns at the end of the porch, sheltered from the spring downpour

English ivy, complete with raindrops. So pretty

Unattended phones and cameras often end up with surprise pictures. My youngest sister and her friend taking advantage of the opportunity

My sister lives in flip flops nearly year-round....that is, when she's not barefoot...

The sun sets, and we get the fire started. I dragged my adirondack chair from the front yard and staked my spot

Dad brings more kindling from the woodshed, and Shep gallops toward me in excitement

I think he's content to just sit by the campfire and absorb the heat too

What good is a campfire without s'mores fixin's? We took a walk on the wild side and tried strawberry marshmallows

The profile of Shep in the faint glow of the fire

The fire slowly burns down...

We're sticky, warm, content, and smell of pine-y campfire smoke. And now it is time for bed.