"Not too cold, not too warm. Just right."

"Hey Ally!" Check that guy out.....I wonder if he'd let us get a picture with him. He'd make us look so good!"

That may or may not be the exact words Alisa said to me that hot Arizona Summer afternoon, but we were young and dumb and there weren't true crime podcasts in 1983 to make us re-think asking a stranger nearly twice our size, to randomly pose with us. There must have been someone, (most likely another stranger) behind the camera so we weren't entirely alone and perhaps not entirely naïve to the circumstances So now we have this photo to memorialize our last summer together before I got married and she headed out to Texas to serve a mission for our church.

I. Love. Summer. To me, the other three seasons all center around this one. They either celebrate the ushering in of it or the leaving it behind. I'm sure there are those that love all things cozy about crunchy Autumn leaves, fires in fireplaces, snow that looks like a freshly frosted cake on the mountain range, and all the warm soups, stews, and everything pumpkin ever imagined. I figure I can eat all that in the Summer just as well. But I could eat watermelon and fresh garden tomatoes every day of my life. And yet I love having four seasons. Something about not having the thing you yearn for and that makes you appreciate it when you finally get it, even more.

Now having experienced our first Summer here in our tiny red cabin, and before we make some pretty massive changes to it, I thought I'd commit to memory a few of my favorite things. The first being the absolute perfect weather. Goldilocks weather. Not too hot. Not too cold. Juuuuuuust right. Warm days with a few incredible thunder storms here and there, followed by cool, dark-sky star-lit nights. We fall asleep to a chorus of crickets and frogs. I make sure I get a little bit of sun every day. It's the best sort of medicine for body and soul.

Speaking of "medicine", turmeric has been a bit of a life saver for the general aches and pains of arthritis in a few of my joints. My thumbs in particular. There was a time in the not so distant past I was taking a wee bit too much ibuprofen. It worked amazingly at decreasing my pain almost into non-existence. But there was too high a price to be paid with side-effects. I stopped taking it at all, and began taking turmeric as a long-shot hope that it would work (even if it had a placebo effect I'd go for it). My hopes were realized and as long as I take it regularly I rarely ever think about my joints. I very much believe those whom practice conventional medicine should be promoting this sort of "medicine". I guess there's just not enough money to be made from it. I also need to start researching how to get my insurance to cover the costs, or a least a portion for my thumbs to be replaced. Not my literal thumbs but the tendons that have been worn away and can actually be replaced much like knees and hips can.. Why on earth insurance companies will pay for a prescription of a little blue pill, but not for the procedure to fix a person's thumb's is beyond me.

I also purchased some CBD oil from my local pharmacy over the counter. It provides almost instant relief.

Evening hikes. Dave likes to joke that I "take him for a walk" each evening. It truly is one of our favorite parts of each day. When one of us is a bit sluggish and wants to beg off, the other will lead the charge. He has a swift and sure pace and I have to stop once in while to "take a picture" so I can literally catch my breath. We always see deer and once saw a mama moose and her baby. luckily she was closer to us than her baby. And luckily Dave was closer to both of them than I was. (Sorry Dave) I'm pretty certain I would have no clue what to do if charged by an angry mama moose. Most likely I'd just stand there and start crying. Super effective. Gotta start carrying bear spray or carrots. Probably both.

Ice Cream. Particularly huckleberry and particularly from the Heber Valley Artisan Dairy and Creamery. I have come to believe that I need an ice-cream cone every Saturday afternoon, along with a half-gallon of organic whole "cream on the top" milk in a glass bottle. We eat our ice-cream with a view of the mountains and dairy cows in the near distance. I love to make home-made yogurt for the week with the milk. So decadent and delicious over berries or cantaloupe and some chili-limon' seasoning sprinkled on top.

Ice cream should be hard enough to bite just like this. Just sayin'.

The dairy also has the most delicious cheese. I broke this wedge of cheese into my sourdough loaf. Whole, rye, toasted quinoa and cheddar and a few fresh herbs.

I recently went with Bronson to the bank to get a joint account. He'll be leaving soon for the Philippines for a two-year mission for our church, and joint accounts with a parent are recommended for foreign missionaries. While we waited for the bank teller to finish up paper-work, I asked Bronson several times to go over with me the things he will need to pack. He mostly smiled and told me not to worry about it and that it will all work out. Alrighty then. Elisabeth, his world-traveled sister will help him with a good detailed packing list. He gave me a hug goodbye and told me he'd see me at dinner the coming Sunday, and we drove away in our separate cars.

Before heading back up the mountain to go home, I stopped off at the store to pick up a few items. I wanted to get Bronson a journal. Something he could start writing in right away. All his feelings and thoughts as he takes on this mighty calling and life experience. I thumbed through a few notebooks, some spiral, some leathery-types. I turned one over in my hands to check the size. It's gotta be something substantial but not too big so that he can't grab it real easily. Found it! Next I wandered over to the pens. Bronson is a total pen snob. He must have learned that from all the time he spent with my mother standing by her side at her desk so many afternoons. As my eyes moved over the several options, I saw a mother with her high-schooler going over her school-supply list. My heart. This is it. I will never again go back-to-school shopping for my child. I'm just here getting him a pen and paper so that he can start documenting the ending of his childhood and beginning of adulthood. I just stood there with the journal in one hand and the pricey pens in the other. Frozen. Staring straight ahead while the mother and daughter murmured softly about which teacher required which supplies. I thought, "They don't even know. They don't know how fleeting and precious this time is that they have together." Maybe the mother has a glimpse. For certain the daughter hasn't the faintest clue. I placed the book and pens into my cart and quickly wheeled it to the check-out. It's not cute to cry in the office supply section of Walmart.

We've been having lots of "last suppers" family dinners lately. Foreign travel for missionaries is a bit of a touch and go thing and Bronson has had an amazing go-with-the-flow attitude about it all. True to his nature for sure. We'll have one last supper this coming Sunday. The weather should be quite perfect. Warm and sunny.

One more favorite thing. Family pictures. It's no small feat to get a crew our size together all at once, but we managed to meet up with everyone's crazy schedules and commitments. We had an amazing photographer and she captured all the feelings and fun of that day.

I grabbed this guy and asked her if she'd take a picture of me with him. I figured he'd make me look pretty good.