It was my first question arriving in Tallahassee.
"Where is the river?"
Corey chuckled. "Ma, there is no river!"
"What? No Beach? No River? Where in the world do we have fireworks?"
Of course, I learned. Parks. Two in my own neighborhood. And lots and lots of street shows on the block. Not the size of the action on the St. Johns River or at Jacksonville Beach! Fun anyway!
I discovered early on that I could sit comfortably on my own garden wall and take in all the nearby fireworks at once! Consequently, I've never gone anywhere, here in Tallahassee, to find "bigger and better." Mine are homegrown and with plenty of parking, bathroom facilities, and beverages (adult or otherwise).
My cats are odd creatures. They take fireworks in stride. Last night, we played on the porch through a nice light show. BUT they got annoyed at Yippy Dog, Woofer Dog, and BowWowser who live on the other side of the woods and who cannot stand noise and lights. Also the new dog, two doors down, whom I've dubbed SuperYipper!
More than celebratory noise, it's loud trucks that bother the Fab Five. Go figure.
The family is scattered as of this morning, summer in full swing, everyone happily satisfied by last night's ribs, potato salad, and beans. Corey and Billie Mathews can cook! The rest of us had eaten joyously. That being said, something was missing for me. Hot dogs!
"I won't eat another hot dog unless I'm at the stadium in Jacksonville, at the Super Bowl Game, Jaguars vs. Steelers," I promised, knowing THAT would be NEVER.
Ha! This morning, I was at Publix so early that there were still good parking places. I bought two of the winners in the taste test – the ones with the least unhealthy ingredients – Nathan's and Boar's Head . I also bought bakery buns and hot dog chili ingredients.
For me, the chili is the thing. The kids and I make simple dogs with catsup, mustard, onion, and relish on Merita buns. Me? I like homemade hot dog chili. It's nothing like the chili we eat in bowls on Halloween night. It's way thicker, spicy, and with fine grind instead of chunky. Not a bean in sight!
So the day was loads of fun. Making a small chili batch, watching yesterday's Le Tour de France, bringing out a toy that cats didn't know we had, serving myself a late State Fair caliber lunch out on the coffee table.
It was a calm and perfect day, all around. Flag flying. Occasional pops and zings from the houses on the block; practicing for tonight, I think. Lush and heart-stopping (Should I say literally?) food and drink (a rare coca-cola). Independence Day!
As a descendent of three of the signers of the Declaration of Independence, I was interested in the holiday TV commercial by Ancestry that featured a group of other descendants of other signers. It was a diverse and very American crowd. Made my heart sing. Gave me hope for the future.
I don't know whether or not the Republic itself is in jeopardy in these surreal times. But I'll bet you a dollar that, in 1776, there were hundreds of grandmotherly types like me (brave firecrackers in their youths), wringing their hands, afraid, and moaning, "Dear God. What is the world coming to?"
Or as my own Grandmother used to announce loudly, after the war was over, about the politics of the post-war era, "Caroline, we are going to Hell in a hand basket!" I was just a little girl. I believed her.
