Thursday, July 4, 2013

Fourth Of July In Massachusetts (Happy 237th, America!)

So, I'm depressed.

I haven't seen fireworks in 4 years on the fourth of July for some reason, maybe the people decided to not set them off after all, or we were out of town (as we are this year), so I decided to put the Elemental Landscapes on hold to make this fourth of July special about what I did INSTEAD.


This morning, I woke up to my sister playing her ukulele.

There are a few things that have happened in the neglect of my poor blog (PLEASE FORGIVE ME) that I was trying to ease into in a funny, creative way told in stories, but, I'll just spell it out for you now:
1. Ana changed her name to her middle name 'Katherine'
2. Ana  Katherine dyed her hair blue and it faded to pink
3. Katherine is feverishly pursuing a music career
4. I cut my hair into a pixie cut

So yeah.

Katherine had kept me up the night before by staying up late, and she had gotten up before me and begun to play her ukulele which woke me up, and I kind of snapped.


Luckily, Dad came up and saved Katherine from a good mauling, with one word:

DAD: Donuts!

When I arrived downstairs, I was faced with an epic dilemma.

But then I remembered that the day before I had prepared for such an emergency.

After that, Dad debriefed me on all that I had missed, but all I could think of was the eight cute little bulldogs waiting for me outside. Our landlords, Gary and Harry, are animal lovers and own a lot of animals, including eight large bulldogs.

As soon as Dad was done, I changed into my bathing suit and flew out the door. To my gratification, the dogs leaped out at me.

I pet them all a bunch of times, and then my eyes came into contact with something so awe-inspiring, so amazing, something so wonderful...

It was Sam.

Sam the turtle.

I was FASCINATED by Sam. He was so cute! When Gary dropped a tomato on the ground Sam gobbled it up, his head thrusting in and out from his shell.

Gary talked about how Sam could detect color, and I reached forward and ran my hands along his bumpy shell. In return, he came up and studied my bathing suit, and then swaggered off and parked himself under a chair. I took that chair so I could watch him.

Eventually, I jumped into the pool. The dogs were very concerned, and hurried up to have me rub reassuring pats into their floppy skin. When I went underwater one almost jumped in, but they had already swum with dad and the others before I got up so just hurried around the sides of the pool.

When I hopped out, I sat on my chair with Sam and watched him fall asleep as the dogs pranced around.

At one time I got bored and headed back up to the house to play on the computer. I wrote some on a book I am writing and that's what I spent the remainder of the afternoon doing.

I began to blog halfway through, and I sought guidance from Katherine;

When I consulted dad, he brought up the subject of the chickens.

ME: There are chickens here?

DAD: Absolutely. They're behind the shed in the clearing near the pool. They bought ten hens for eggs but a rooster came with them. But, he was mean. He picks at the chickens and they have to be kept in a coop or he'll bite their feathers. He does anyway, but less severely.

ME: That's horrible! Why don't they get rid of him?

DAD: They love animals. Besides, if it weren't for him, the coyotes would probably eat them.

Sheepishly, I followed Dad out to the chicken coop. There was a hostile crow as we neared it, and I knew a genuine rooster was inside.

I was looking at the beat-up little chickens when Dad opened a small drawer-sized door and told me to look inside. When I peeked in, I saw two little eggs.

DAD: Grab 'em. We can bring them back.

I protectively held one egg in each of my very small hands and Dad opened a second drawer. To my delight, a third egg was nestled in the straw.

I carried the eggs all the way to the shed where I placed them in a basket with five others the men had gathered before I got up.

DAD: Let's carry the basket back up to them at the house.

I frowned pityingly at the dogs, now locked up in their kennel, also where the egg basket were stored. I grabbed the basket and followed Dad back up to the house.

After another few hours blogging and such, I told my friend Fiona over Skype that I wasn't able to see fireworks again.

Fiona responded, saying that she could Skype me and take me with her to see fireworks so I wouldn't miss out.

A bit teary by this wonderful gesture, this was the result:

I couldn't thank her enough. I got to see fireworks after all.

Sometime later Dad brought me outside for more cupcakes and sparklers, and I have to admit, even without seeing fireworks in person, this fourth of July was a pretty darn good one.