I should say "thank you."
This has been the summer of the "mountain". The mountain refers to the cottage of my childhood. The house where Mom and Dad, boys and I used to go EVERY summer to spend time with our grandparents and just BE. What did we do there? Well, I remember making mudpies on the lazy susan in the backyard. Sitting on the mossy rocks and pulling the long leaves from fern. I ate fruit with my Aunt Betty on her couch and talked about what she was cooking. I swam in the lake, wearing muddy sneakers ankle deep in muck. I watched leaves blow, turn, shimmer and dapple sunlight on the darkest green grass. I would lie on the hammock waiting for my grandfather to come home from work, then watch him take his nap on the hammock slung between two trees. My Mom would always be awake and beautiful in the morning. Sitting at the kitchen counter sipping coffee, singing along to her radio. Our Dad worked in NJ the entire summer while we vacatione...