The summer of the never ending Duluth Jamerican party!
(The summer I fell down the stairs at 3 AM because I was awakened to see the new ...late... arrivals to the party).
The summer of early morning sounds like bombs going off, when people said "Guess we are being attacked", and we all just rolled over and fell back asleep.
Taxis from town, Grandma's Marathon, a HUGE lawn to mow, a really drunk guy rolling down a Duluth hill to get a Finnish Reggae cd, my daughter and her chest opened up like a gutted fish, Doug's son setting the deck on fire.... food food and more food. Quite a bit of rum, too