the photo one: July 14

Bastille Day! I don't celebrate this in the traditional way (ugly hats and fireworks and running around in the streets), nor do I celebrate it in any traditional way at all. It changes every year. Some years, I remember it a few days after the fact. This year, however, I honored it with a barbecue wherein none of my invitees were French.

My barbecue is notoriously difficult to light. At its height, there were no less than six people attempting to ignite it, myself included.

Look at those dour faces. We were dreaming of lovely grilled food, and the charcoal was not catching.

See? The disappointment is crushing.

Well, some people are more optimistic than others.

It's picking up. (Also, here night falls like a ton of bricks.)

Samantha chops wood. With my dad's hatchet. This makes her happy.

Rosana takes matters into her own hands, and this is the result of a giant squirt of lighter fluid. This, plus the firewood and newspaper, worked.

The stuff in foil is potatoes. There were tasty!

The spread. THIS is what summer is to me. I suppose I can do this any time of year, but it tastes better in the summer.

Tim and Marie arrive, bringing with them ~~French~~ German beer, which they likely also drink in France.

We are happier with food on the grill.

Marie has a new haircut.

Sean the Rocket Man. Brain the size of a planet, contemplating the flames.

Alec arrives to partake in the festivities.

I always think this is a photo of Tal playing the banjo.

Marie took this photo. Your faithful narrator deserves a spot of embarrassment every now and again. They can't ALL be flattering photos. But I like this one because I LOVE CORN!!