The kids are all crowded around the upstairs windows, straining to see the neighbor's fireworks. I am notoriously not a fan of fireworks, and thus not inclined to sit outside to be chewed up by mosquitoes, all for a bit of bang and sparkle. I can't say exactly when I stopped being charmed by the Fourth of July... possibly the year we sat in a traffic-jam with a screaming toddler, or the year we had the best seats ever, and all the kids wanted to do was chase fire-flies through the field (thereby stirring up the mosquitoes). I'm always a sucker for that 'Hallmark moment'.
The neighbors are doing it up right, to their credit. There is music, beer, a huge bonfire, beer, fire-crackers, beer, and a goodly supply of the nice, "illegal" fireworks... and beer. Oh, and guns. Target practice is a big part of every celebration, here in the hills. And beer. Beer is big, too.
Tomorrow, life will resume it's normal pattern. I had the shop open for an hour and a half today, but saw not a single human being out and about, so I changed the phone message and played hooky. On tomorrow's to-do list is buying the chirruns some fireworks. They can save them for the two July 12th birthdays here at Becher Haus, and I'll look into getting a keg delivered. Speaking of, I should probably get the cake ordered, and plan the menu. Usually all they want is roasted corn, hot dogs, and watermelon... not exactly a culinary challenge, though it does mean I'll have to remove the family of mice from inside the grill. Ugh.