All across this country, after four months of not going on vacations, going to movies, drinking in bars, people are discovering they have a pile of extra cash they need to blow up. Literally. The general consensus in Colorado is that we completely bought out all of Wyoming's big fancy aerial fireworks. That stuff isn't sold here, but boy is it exploding here. Pretty sure we made Wyoming's state budget in tax revenue. Probably gave them a surplus. The booms started well before dark, at six or so. The kids came over, and we went out around 8:30 to light some sparklers and fountains, to the sound of more than half of the neighborhood launching shells one after another. It lasted for hours. It's still going now, well after I got tired and came inside.
I held Dino for the big fountain finale of our little display. She loved it. She watched the whole time. She is mommy's little girl in that respect. Less like grandma. I like watching them from a distance. I have no need to light them myself. As I explained to my son-in-law, they trigger the flight or fight response in me to flip 100% to flight. Maybe I really am just like the dogs and cats.
We walked down to the park and stood in the middle of the ballfields, where we could see the flashing lights. The show was spectacular. Non-stop. Friends of my daughter were there as well, and we chatted briefly from a safe distance. We agreed that the show was better and much more sustained than any municipal display we have ever attended. And when I had had enough, I was able to walk the two blocks home, without fighting traffic, and kick back in front of the TV. (I'm sneaking a preview of Hamilton, not waiting for the Mr. I'll make him watch it soon enough.) I have had worse Independence Day celebrations. I didn't miss a group picnic at all.
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