Ah, summer! When I was growing up, my dad always liked to mow the lawn in the evenings after an early supper or before a late one. It was cooler, and since his mornings were always busy at the office, the evenings were the perfect time. Us kids would run around barefoot in the moist grass and do cartwheels and somersaults in the sections of the yard he had mowed. The smell of that freshly cut grass has stayed in my mind for all of my 23 years of life. To me, it's the smell of home . . . of safety . . . and happiness. Living in an apartment complex doesn't lend itself to that sweet smell much, but today when I walked out to get our mail, there it was, sending me spiraling back down memory lane. I couldn't help but grin a little. It really is the little things in life, as the saying goes, that mean the most. I have many wonderful memories of special trips to museums and amusement parks and national monuments, but they don't stand out nearly as much in my mind as those ...