Hello, all.
Well, Independence day is in three days. We'll be doing the usual--going to my grandma's with Aunt Judi, Uncle Tom, Mom, Dad, Sara and Michael (4-year-old twins--the little monsters) and the infamous Lindsay. We'll go to the Medinah Country Club to which she belongs and they have a big festival on the grounds, with a moon-walk and blow-up obstacle-course and old-style vendor carts selling popcorn and hot dogs and cotton candy and Sno Cones, and they'll have tennis competitions and a three-legged race and a regular race, plus they'll have a coin dive in the pool. I usually get a good 5 bucks from that particular activity. And the fireworks--how I love the fireworks!
Everyone sits on the green of the gold course and sometimes me and Lindsay, just to be adventurous, wander away from th adults and stake out our own little area in the sandy part, I forget what it's called, and we'll have glow necklaces around our necks and glow earrings through our ears, and we'll have them around our wrists and ankles and waving them around in the air until we look like someone spilled something radioactive on the both of us. The fireworks are shot out over the most beautiful lake, surrounded by weeping willows and yellow poplars. They have the regular ones, the rockets and the banshees and the Black Cats and kitty-chasers and whatnot, and they'll have the state-of-the-art ones, too, ones that draw red hearts or yellow smiley faces up in the air. And we'll go back to Grandma's in seperate cars, and all the way there they'll be fireworks going off every which way, exploding and snapping and popping until the whole sky is a spiderweb of smoke and dazzling colors. We'll pull in the driveway to her house and the rambunctious teenagers next door will be setting off boxes upon boxes of the stuff, same as the rich snobby ones up the street in the mansion, and we'll watch their fireworks for a while on the front porch. But then it'll be late, and the twins with be whining and Lindsay's eyes will be drooping fast, and we'll say our goodbyes and they'll clamber into their navy-blue mini-van and be off, and pretty soon we'll do the same and Grandma will wave us off and then go watch fireworks from her backyard. I'll go to bed once we're home, it had been a long, full day, and when I wake up in the morning I'll run downstairs and look in the freezer for those glowsticks I put there to make them last long, and I'll just have to make sure they'll still their to be certain that yesterday wasn't just one long, delightful dream.
