Dad is putting up a fence in the backyard. It’s summertime and I’m seven. He leaves a space at the tree so we can still cut through to Missy and Shelly’s. They have a tire swing and a basement. They get the channel with Fraggle Rock and their mom buys pop in cans, packs of six. I secretly think they might be rich. Today we’re learning to tell our summertime stories. Join us at (in)courage?