We headed up to Mike's hometown on Saturday afternoon to spend the day with one of his oldest and favorite friends. Nick and his brothers throw an annual 4th of July (er...2nd of July in this case) pig roast* and this is the first year we were able to make it.
There was a volleyball tournament, a game involving a tree stump, nails, and flipping hammers (seriously the most dangerous thing I've ever witnessed a bunch of slightly tipsy adults play), and hours of sitting on the back steps and catching up. We set up our tent in a quiet corner of Nick's front yard and were laughed out for being so excited about sleeping outside. The phrase "city folk" may have been thrown around in our general direction. But we woke up early Sunday morning to the sounds of thunder in the distance and rain pattering on the tent and felt a thousand miles from home.
*I am not a vegetarian, but still couldn't bring myself to eat the pork after it surfaced from it's roasting home. It looked too much like what it once was. I just couldn't do it.