Independence Day

I hit the ground running on Independence Day and got a workout in before getting breakfast going for company. Andy, Shaena, Baby Samantha, Kathy, and Dominick came over to have breakfast with us. Baby Samantha packed her pink, ruffle-bottomed bikini for a day at the lake, and they headed out after our visit while the rest of us braved the traffic downtown and sought out the pet parade. We stopped in at the museum for a brief visit with my parents and then headed into the chaos of the celebration to catch some of the parade, a tradition in this town since the 1930s. At times I wonder if there are more people in the parade than there are watching it. Hundreds of people bring their pets to show off (except cats, which were excluded this year) or just decorate their bikes, pedal around, and wave. There were little aquariums in red wagons with turtles and such sloshing helplessly in them, and I saw more than one hamster in some impressive multicolored tangles of Habitrail tubes. There was, of course, the yearly favorite, Daisy Mae, the poor little chihuahua in a harness and hot pink goggles suspended in midair by many giant red, white, and blue helium balloons (apparently, PETA has not caught wind of our small-town celebration yet). Erik had a swollen upper lip yesterday for some reason, which puffed up even more in the heat. Since he has inherited my Scandinavian constitution, we both turned red and blotchy, slowly wilting in the heat together. However, I think he enjoyed watching the parade and just hanging out with the Domster. Erik liked the obnoxious battery-powered toy cars driven about by some cute, obviously very spoiled, precociously road-raging tykes the best. Next year we are considering putting the boys in a wagon and joining the parade. After the festivities we all headed home. Brian took Erik out to play with the rocks and pull weeds, and I baked a cheesecake. I kept Erik up long enough in the evening so my parents could see him before I put him to bed, and then we sat out on the porch to watch the fireworks being shot off the butte in town. Erik went down very well and didn’t seem to be bothered by the noise outside. The fireworks started off like a bad Great White concert with some fluorescent orange, propane-fueled mushroom clouds blooming atop the top of the hill, which were indeed impressive but looked a bit too bomb-like for my tastes, and then some of the most gorgeous fireworks I have seen here in town over the years. My favorites are the bright pink hearts. How do they do that? After the show we all slept pretty well, but Erik got up at 6:00 this morning, despite his late bedtime. I am currently trying to refine the logistics of processing work, dropping off work, Erik's nap, getting my hair colored, dropping off Erik, and working today. I want the weekend back! I am quite pleased it is already Wednesday, however. On Friday Erik’s great-grandmother is coming to town to see Erik. I’m sure he will like that!