One of the many things I miss about summer in Washington is bucking hay with my family. There was once a time in my life when bucking hay was what you did once August came around. It was during those hot summer nights that I learned how to drive in our blue farm truck. One of the best parts of the job was though the night's where blistering hot and your whole body itched from head to toe, you knew that once you were done you got to take a dip in the glorious Pilchuck River, which was ever so refreshing. Though the work was hard work, my family and I have good memories of those nights. Here is a picture my dad sent me today of He and my brother Mark carrying on the summer tradition without me.