Aside from a smattering of sunny hours, this summer is whimpering like an old bus on it's last route. My tomatoes are still green (sigh), my skin is still pale, and I haven't yet cursed the heat (what heat?). Yet, if this photo were the only remnant of the unfinished shift, I would have to deduce that it wasn't half bad. That's Tyler and Colt playing songs by the fire and our garage lit up like a greenhouse. Pretty darn summery-night's dream, if you ask me.

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