Happy 4th of July

Well, July came screaming in like a mofo. The election, the Supremes, extreme heat, power outages and Bones reruns no longer on Freevee. Even the episodes I’ve already watched. Gone as of July 1 unless you pay. I’m starting to believe in conspiracy theories.

When the going gets tough, it’s time to finally buy a Vitamix and hunker down with smoothies. Mine arrives today. Just in time to save me from myself.

Dale, who is also in a funk, is thinking about an immersion circulator – sous vide. He hates the stress of getting a steak exactly the way we like it on the grill, and this method takes a lot of the guesswork out.  

Such bougie little solutions to world-class problems, but there you have it. To quote the Pet Shop Boys, happiness is an option. I can honestly say I stayed happy throughout my cancer treatment 25 years ago. I chose to be happy then, and I choose to be happy now.

Maybe it’s the heat, but I had a craving for watermelon. I’m usually disappointed in melons, so I rarely buy them. And then they’re so big. But Safeway had a smaller chunk of one cut and wrapped, and it looked really ripe. That was my breakfast this morning, and it was delicious.  

Dale is a recovered fireworks junkie. He loves all things that go boom. His dream is to be adopted by that family that implodes buildings. But he backed away after we got cats, and fireworks freaked them out. Fireworks are illegal in our county, but that never stopped him in the past. The stories I could tell. But I won’t. Not sure about the statute of limitations.

OK, sure, since you asked nicely. This one shouldn’t get him in trouble. We were living in Alabama, Huntsville to be exact, and he had a stockpile of the biggest baddest fireworks available on the open market. Maybe the black market, too. I’m still not sure.

It wasn’t even dark when he started firing off pyrotechnics in the front yard, and that escalated as the evening wore on when he and two brothers down the street we called The Darryls started trying to outdo each other. Beer was involved. The street looked like a war zone.

The police came, and as I recall, Dale stuffed wads of fireworks down his pants and politely told the cops he didn’t have any. Just enjoying the holiday with his family. In the front yard with piles of smoky debris and empty beer cans.

I think the policeman said something like, sure, buddy, but it’s over now, got it? And Dale said something he apparently rehearsed many times over, “Yes, officer.”

I’m not sure what happened to The Darryls, they’re probably still in jail, but the festivities came to a screeching halt. It wasn’t the first time we had to clean up the street in the morning, but it was the last.

We have no special celebration plans, but we will eat well and won’t be blowing things up.

For dinner, Dale is grilling what we call Hunk-O-Lamb. I’m making tabbouleh, which is a bulgar wheat salad mixed with spring onion, tomatoes, mint and parsley and then tossed with an olive oil and lemon juice vinegarette seasoned with some dried herbs. Oh, and fresh corn on the cob. Perhaps a Zinfandel.

It will be hot, but we still might eat outside. Once you get all that food in you and your body is heated up, it’s nice to cool off in the pool before bed. It’s all part of the live well no matter what strategy.

Happy 4th of July. Or happy Thursday if you’re not from these parts.

6 thoughts on “Happy 4th of July”

    1. I know. It’s so scary, and I really don’t understand what’s going on.

  1. Sounds a good way to spend a Thursday, or Independence Day, or Election Day as we had in the UK. The results this morning show an out with the old and in with the new. Only time will tell if the new are genuinely new, or just a different version of the old. I have hope, but I place no money on anything where politicians are involved.

    1. The newspapers here had lots of headlines regarding your changes. I hope it’s all for the better. I agree about politicans. Not much good going on there.

  2. You got me! For a split second, I was thinking Diana Ross, not scotus! 😉
    The Alabama story fits nicely with my view of the state where females in their Confederate flag bikinis are followed by chants of Dixie Cups, Dixie Cups! It’s a state I hope to never visit again.

    1. I definitely like the Diana Ross version better.

      The Deep South is tough to take, at least for some of us, but Huntsville was pretty nice when we lived there. I also lived in South Carolina, and while I do credit a few doctors there for saving my life, that state is really messed up. Way more Confederate than Alabama. Texas was great … we really enjoyed living there … but it has taken a sharp turn to the right since we left. California has its problems, but I’d rather be here than anywhere else.

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