Five-year-old me riding a bike on our gravel driveway The best thing about summer is memories--making them, and remembering them. Here's a summer memory from my childhood, which I'm linking up to the Finish the Sentence Friday blog hop. As soon as I was a child in school, summers became special. After months in the classroom--which I loved, by the way--summer presented a break from academic expectations. Endless hours of free time stretched almost as wide as the horizon. I lived just outside city limits of a small town in Oregon. Every year, near the 4th of July, the World Championship Albany Timber Carnival would be held in the appropriately-named Timber Linn Park. Loggers from all over would come to compete in events such as log-rolling, pole-climbing, and various sawing competitions. I lived just about a mile away from the park, and at that time, there were just fields and a few trees separating my house from the carnival. In the days preceding the carnival, I would go to
Living life with a thankful heart