Another holiday spent exactly the way I prefer. In rugged camp style celebrations alongside a few of our favorite Americans, eating too much. Laughing and relaxing in excess. Sticking to a few beloved and tried traditions that spring in the form of delicious salmon kabobs in honor of Rob's birthday cooked at sunset on the 3rd, paired with sea soaked corn on the cob and watermelon sprinkled with lime and salt. Hot dogs, and mint julups poured tiny metal cups. Kids scattered in every direction as the sun shifts and slices across the sand at different angles (and intensities) with each passing hour. And our grand old American flag winding up a glorious accent to the backend of an equally loved old Ford RV after a long expected debate that has come to humorously mark the morning of the 4th. Where Mike and I openly debate the best possible spot (and way) to hang this beauty to best showcase it's glory. So that the light catches it just right. A cherished symbol of patriotism expressed by a woman in 1948 who hand's sewn dedication ended up on the plane her husband flew the same year. A tattered beacon of love. Highlight of our sweet July spot staked there in the sun. Year after year. While the babes grow longer and leaner in limb, but the food and backdrop always stay the same.