4th of July

In our house, the 4th of July is not our favorite holiday. Ever since Adam and I became homeowners, we've spent early summer cringing at the sound of explosives on weekend evenings, intermittent pops that build up to disturbing levels by early July. We like to watch fireworks; we just don't want them next to our house. Or wood fence. And poor Smokey spends the holiday cowering behind furniture, certain that thunder and lightning are coming to get her.

But this year, in spite of our cynicism and low expectations, we had one of our best Independence Days ever - possibly the best ever. It started with a neighborhood bike parade and picnic. Adam and I ran to Target for last-minute decorations (balloons and streamers in passable colors), we attached them to Isaac's tricycle, and then my parents and kids and I were off to the start line - a crowd of families with elaborately-decorated wagons, bikes and strollers, all congregated under an archway of red, white and blue balloons that stretched across the intersection. Isaac looked a bit overwhelmed, but we adults were impressed at how many people had shown up for some old-fashioned, neighborhood fun.









The walk was only about 5 blocks, but with all the people, we moved slowly. Jonah watched from the comfort of his stroller and only cried when we had to stop momentarily.




5 blocks was still too much for Jonah...


The parade ended at the park, where there was an amazing bluegrass band playing. Isaac was ready to run and dance, and he took my dad with him, saying again and again, "Babop run with me!" My dad jogged along behind him for a while, but we needed Jane and Greg, who were on their way back from the Liberty Race in Wash Park. Eventually they showed up with a medal apiece - each had placed first in their age group. Typical!






The music was so good, and we kept running into friends everywhere we looked. Hot dogs and burgers were soon going on the grill, and an ice cream sundae of record-breaking length was planned for later. Plus dessert contests and a canned food drive. This felt like an old-time celebration, wholesome and safe, full of families and food. I could have stayed all afternoon, but the boys were wiped out from the parade and all the activity. So we headed home for lunch.


Stopping to play along the way.




Jonah decided he was tired of his luxurious stroller, so I carried him all the way home.




After some watermelon and a sandwich, Isaac found his second wind...


My dad showed him how to blow up a balloon and send it squeaking and flying around the room when you let it go.


Isaac could not stop laughing...


And he wanted my dad to do it again, and again, and again...






















"What is going on in here?"














And if the pictures aren't enough, here's the video...It does capture his amazing laugh and the exhausted silliness of this day.



I wish I had photos of the evening, because it may have been the best of all. Partway through our burgers, the sky opened up. Parties and events were probably rained out all over Denver, but we sat in our backyard under a tarp Adam had secured over the patio - leftover from an almost-rained out cookout a month before. As darkness came, Adam lit our lantern, and the rain beat down on the tarp as we sat dry underneath. It was one of the coldest 4ths I can remember, and I finished the night wrapped in a blanket and a fleece jacket. The rain pounding on the tarp reminded me of the tin roofs of my childhood, especially at Echo Hill. It roared; it was deafening; and it lasted all night and for 3 more days, though the intensity lessened after that first night. I burrowed into my fleece, felt the summer chill on my face, and thought of all the people sitting inside right then. The lantern flicked on our faces, and my dad poured more wine. We weren't going anywhere.