The 4th of July, Halloween, and Thanksgiving are my favorite holidays. I had planned on writing an essay on what today, the 4th, means to me, being a naturalized American. I’ll owe it to you for tomorrow. I just wanted to post this lovely picture slide. I think that if I ever printed every single picture I take, I would have to get a job just to pay for them.
Today we were home pretty much all day, reading and watching TV. Finally, I felt so bad for my poor angels that we went to the little park. Jeff had said he’d be home early today, but like those little promises of his, I half-believed it. The children were playing, and all of a sudden we saw the car, our car, so wohoo!, he really meant to come early! We ate something from Wendy’s because we were all so hungry, and there was no food in the apartment!
We went to the “I love America” festival, that supposedly was one of the biggest celebrations in the country. Yes, it was packed, the concessions lines were longer than a poor man’s sigh (my dad always says that) and after we had been there for a while, we realized it was a celebration organized by a church, an evangelical church. Jeff couldn’t fake it anymore, so we left. I wanted to stay, mainly because we hadn’t celebrated, you know what I mean. But the mosquitoes were relentless, and yes, the crowd was getting wilder. On a side note, check out the picture of the Amish-looking couple. They were not Amish, but they wore kind of the same clothes, and they were holding a giant cup of mountain dew, and hooked to the waist of her pioneer dress, the lady had a cell phone. Talk about modernization.
We finally left, and got some cherry and strawberry milkshakes, and went back, but not inside the actual festival, but to a hill that overlooked the celebration. From there, we watched the fireworks. The children had been playing tag with a few other kids they had never met before, and they looked so elfish playing and running, mixing with the fireflies. Jeff caught one of the fireflies for them to see up-close, and they were so fascinated; their faces alight with wonder. The show started, and the booming of the fireworks echoed the heartbeat of my children, sitting beside me, looking at the lights in the sky resemble flowers, hearts, weeping willows, stars, Tata (Chubbers said. So she saw a middle-eastern looking grandpa up there … ).
We were elated, relaxed almost after the fireworks, and we ended the night, where else? At Wal-Mart, of course, that symbol of the American dream and American living. How appropriate, don’t you think?