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Quentin

There was nothing like a sues of the day and stinging on your skin the instant you walked out of the house faded and softened As the sun seee of the sky until it pooled on the horizon, it took the miserable humidity with it In its place it left relief and a welcoh it finally reached its capacity and cracked, and I felt like I could breathe

Even better was a lazy su over ot a chance to relax and enjoy it Those were rare Life was busy and it felt like far too often ot stea I could spend the day absolutely determined to take a break and head out intoand by the time I was able to pull away froht Not that it stoppedto head out There were plenty of tiht found me tempted to wake up my fire pit and sit out there in the dark

I stoppedwas still there But not that night I finally had soent needs pressing in around me, and I could actually have one of those coveted lazy su every ether, I carried it outside onto e staircase that led toable to spend much time in it, it was entirely possible my backyard was actually y, andthe exact space I wanted, so when I did get the ti I could want

That included thebenches and stools They re trips er My brothers and I would sit around the fire for as long as our parents let us, roasting anything we could figure out how to impale on the end of a stick or stuff into a sandwich ers together with the rehost stories with the singular goal of scaring the hell out of each other There was the ongoing challenge to see which one would sneak up closer to the fire to get in ht first, and which would try to h “accidental” noise to lure our parents out of the tent to stop the story

This pit was a bitwe built from whatever rocks we could find scattered around in the woods, and I rarely had to worry about critters scurrying out of the logs when they lit Our snacks had gotten less host stories in years But the spirit and sentiment were still there

My brothers and parents were already sitting around the blazing bonfire My father occasionally prodded the logs, sending cascades of sparks up into the darkening sky

“Here we go,” I said “A fewinto”

My youngest brother stared at the tray as I set it down

“Seriously? We’re going to make snakes?” he asked “Are you sure you’re the oldest brother?”

“I hate when you call the “I never hear the whole sentence, and it always gives me the heebie-jeebies”

My brother Nick lifted up froh stretched out on a plate in the middle of the tray

“What are you talking about, Darren? These things are delicious,” he said

They were nothing h wrapped around the end of a stick and roasted over the fire until done, then rolled in butter, but they were always a favorite treat on those long-ago ca trips Cheap and fast, they were an easy way for my parents to feed their brood of four boys, and because they could be dipped in either cinnaar or salt once buttered, they pleased everybody As we got a little older, we’d graduated to adding garlic or soar option was left untouched, a sacred part of summer