I must confess, should I be accused of romanticizing certain things that I am to talk about later in this post, that I have loved Independence Day most of my life. I mean, what's not to love: usually reliably warm weather, family, friends, relaxation, hot coals on the grill, fireworks . . . need I go on?
But now that I live here . . . now I love it even more. The town that I live in lives for Independence Day. I mean, our Civic Foundation and other village groups do a lot things throughout the year, but nothing compares to how we go all out on the fourth of July every year.
There's a parade. A festival that everyone walks up to after the parade (literally by following the tail end of the parade up). At the festival there are games, food and a dixieland band. After the festival we go to our house and do nothing. Nothing. We won't even walk inside to get a drink, instead we keep a cooler close at hand containing all our favorite beverages so we don't have to move. We grill out and, if I may say, this year's meal was ridiculously delicious. And then, of course, fireworks.
The whole day feels idyllic. Magically idyllic, as if the stresses and worries of real life are paused for one long, too-perfect day.
So, yeah. We had a great fourth, and I hope you did too!
