Audrey, Jenny, Myself, Brent
On Saturday we rope swang/swung/swinged in Mona (a small town far south of the current homeland). There is lovely clear water that is only kind of murky and only semi smells like fish. I affirmed the long held belief that I struggle with rope swings as I let go as soon as I was deep enough not to suffer a head injury. I cannot, apparently, wait for the peak. I think it stems from my fear of being on the swing and just wanting to be in the water a.s.a.p. Maybe I'm a fish, not a bird? Let's consider that in great depth. (no pun intended)I love all these people so check out my shoulder tan lines!
After swanging/swunging/swinging we stopped by BIG BURGER right on Main St. in Mona. We let the man that drove his John Deere tractor cut us in line, as he was just wanting a fruit punch. It was a perfect summer burger as a result of me being able to carve my name on the table before I ate, and the small town taste that accompanied it.Let's all raise our fruit punches to summer, and Mona.
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