We don't celebrate, though I think the generally hot weather and crowds and mosquitoes that come along with fireworks displays made us desist before we actually thought why it might not be something we wanted to do. We used to go with various friends as their children got old enough to be taken to fireworks displays. (Some of the children really DID NOT LIKE IT and I couldn't blame them.)
The first year I lived with David, he had the Fourth off work and we were living in Massachusetts, maybe an hour from Boston. I had some idea that we might drive in to Boston see the fireworks. David, however, wanted to build a print drying rack for his darkroom, and had not had time to even think about it until this holiday. One of our housemates thought he might drive in, but in the end decided that he didn't feel like dealing with Boston traffic. This was before you could watch fireworks on the internet, though sometimes you could on TV.
My family had always celebrated, and I thought of sticking a hot dog on a fork and toasting it over a stove burner, but in the end I did not. It was all quite all right, but the difference in my and David's expectations was interesting. His father taught at Carleton, and I think his parents just used to go along to various staff and faculty celebrations there.
I had a really good Saturday this weekend, having a picnic tea with all the members of a group of very old friends who have been taking turns making high tea for one another for decades. We'd last met in September of last year, and one member hadn't been able to come then. The previous tea was in March of 2020. So that was really lovely. We did a potluck tea rather than saddling one person with everything, and that was lovely too.
My best wishes to Shawn. Digestive woes are not fun.
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The first year I lived with David, he had the Fourth off work and we were living in Massachusetts, maybe an hour from Boston. I had some idea that we might drive in to Boston see the fireworks. David, however, wanted to build a print drying rack for his darkroom, and had not had time to even think about it until this holiday. One of our housemates thought he might drive in, but in the end decided that he didn't feel like dealing with Boston traffic. This was before you could watch fireworks on the internet, though sometimes you could on TV.
My family had always celebrated, and I thought of sticking a hot dog on a fork and toasting it over a stove burner, but in the end I did not. It was all quite all right, but the difference in my and David's expectations was interesting. His father taught at Carleton, and I think his parents just used to go along to various staff and faculty celebrations there.
I had a really good Saturday this weekend, having a picnic tea with all the members of a group of very old friends who have been taking turns making high tea for one another for decades. We'd last met in September of last year, and one member hadn't been able to come then. The previous tea was in March of 2020. So that was really lovely. We did a potluck tea rather than saddling one person with everything, and that was lovely too.
My best wishes to Shawn. Digestive woes are not fun.
P.