We bought a burger kit at Tucker Provisions and took it to my dad’s to have a picnic, except it rained and rained so we cooked in the kitchen instead of on the grill.

(And the crazy started before we even left the neighborhood as the teenager saw that someone’s guard dog escaped and she was fairly certain she knew what home it came from since it was on her way to school. She lured it to its yard.)

Somehow this wasn’t surprise as I have always had the curse that it rains when I want to grill.

I’d hoped the teenager’s dad took that with him when our marriage ended. I guess not.

The meal was delicious and we shared it with my elderly Aunt Sharon who lives alone and has her share of disabilities.

I think my step mom loved the brioche rolls from Modern Crumb Bakery best.

We took a walk around the neighborhood after dinner and the teenager collected “treasure” in a brown paper bag— wildflowers, weeds, rocks. My little witch at work.

We had cheesecake. So much cheesecake.

And my dad offered to share his concoction that he makes for his immune system: onions, garlic and honey. No thanks, Dad.

The teenager got my bow from the basement—and once we remembered how to string it—shot arrows at trees in the yard.

Then the teenager brought in her marching baritone to play for her grandparents and she realized she didn’t have a mouthpiece.

What a lovely day with family.

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