Back in the States doing normal in-the-states things. Like, I took a picture of a bee on a walk through a nature park. Because, well, nature.
Spent a mid-August day with my dad and his wife, bundled up against the cold. We were too wimpy to take the kids out on the promised boat ride. Ali’s mom convinced us to come home for a visit this summer because she says the kids never get to see Minnesota in the glorious summer. So I’m pretty much holding this crap weather over her head now.
Fortunately, in Minnesota, if you have a worm you are pretty much guaranteed to catch a sunfish.
Spotted this picture of my grandpa that I had never seen before in my dad’s office. He was the Sibley County Sheriff before buying the farm that I spent most childhood weekends exploring. He died when I was fifteen, and all these years later I still miss him, and miss going out to the farm to see him.
We took the kids bowling so that we could down a pitcher of beer with a friend. Both Ali and I had to scramble in the last two frames to beat Ouest.
Lowe has woken up every morning asking if he can go out and play in the “Yellow Porsche.” He knows every inch of that car. And despite the cramped quarters we are all really looking forward to our upcoming road trip. Our route will take us on what for Minnesotans is pretty much the quintessential summer road trip. Can you say, South Dakota? Yep, Corn Palace, Wall Drug, Black Hills, and countless diners pulled straight out of classic Americana.
The pull of consumerism was too great—I couldn’t help but buy another camera. In fact, we went on a bit of a camera buying frenzy and got the kids two new cameras as well. Their last ones had pretty much reached their abuse limit.
Here’s one of my first shots—Ali’s dad on his “back-up” bike.
The classics come out summer Friday nights in North St. Paul. Lots of American steel, which is probably why the Porsche was such a hit—somebody had to mix things up.