All American

There is something odd about celebrating Independence Day by eating Mexican food. We went as a family. Meg had a cheese quesadilla. Liam ate the usual chicken strips with fries. Cindy had a shrimp quesadilla. And I had a burrito with chili ranchero. Left a big tip. Gracias, amigo. Welcome to America.

Headed home and (imagine this) worked on the yard. More roots. More shrubs. More sun. More sweat. I have something akin to a farmer's tan. I don't recognize my own hands. Dirt under my nails. A driving urge to sharpen my machete and buy a long-handled ax. Build a little cabin by a river. Go fly fishing.

I'm becoming Abe Lincoln.

All American.