Independence Day has got to be one of my least favorite holidays; in the past it has definitely been a harbinger of weirdness. People play with alcohol and gunpowder while the temperatures soar…and most of them have to work the next day.
I’m not a big fan of fire, waste, or uncontained noise, but I do love the food and drink. It is also a holiday meant for friends and/or family, we got to entertain both. This year I made a simple strawberry-topped brownie, held together with an American Flag.
Earlier in the day Tyrone and I whipped together cold salads: pesto shrimp, purple cabbage, and green beans, as well as a black bean/garbanzo bean salad with baby carrots (chopped) and rice wine vinegar. On the hot side, we grilled beets and I cut a bunch of sweet potatoes into fry-like shapes. The deep-fat fryer went outside (the smell) and I cooked 3 small batches. My sister came over and mashed together 2 lbs of hamburgers, onions, peppers, mushrooms, bacon and garlic powder into the most delicious hamburger my father has ever eaten, and he used to raise livestock and smoke his own meats! Everything really impressed his palate, and he’s not normally very impressed by anything.
Later we went over to Jackson’s where he lit off his 12th box of fire: box of thunder.
I’m glad we have friends that like good food too. N made his famous calico beans, not pulling any stops for his vegan guests, and Dan and Ruth made Taziki inspired by their Grecian honeymoon. D lit off a bunch of fireworks with names like “Friendship”, “Laughing Crocodile”, and “Happy Showers”. From 27th and Yankee Hill, we had a great view of Lincoln’s most expensive fireworks smuggled from Missouri, without the hassle of lighting them ourselves.
After two hours, I had enough. When we got home, and the bombs were still bursting in air at midnight, I had really had enough. I almost became that lady who walks outdoors in her bathrobe to tell the little wipper-snappers that she’s going to call the cops….almost, but not quite.