Happy Fourth

We have had such a wonderful Fourth. It's one of those weekends that has felt perfectly long and full. And I still have TOMORROW.


Memorial Day, Fourth of July and Labor Day — the three patriotic holidays — are by far my favorite holidays of the year. They are summer's capital letter, comma and period. Being holiday-bound to grill, drink and spend as much time outside as possible with friends and family, all in the name of history (one of my favorite topics) can't be a bad thing. And, while I don't always agree with the direction our country is headed and am sad when our nation's leadership can't function together; I know I am fortunate to have been born here — rather than, say, a vast desert in the middle of an impoverish, warring nation where women have to raise the kids, cook the meals, clean house, wash dishes and do the whole family's laundry on top of performing hard labor all day in the factories and fields ... ok, well that is kinda like here ... but, I would like to thank the Founding Fathers and those great American heroes that followed for creating a nation where it is possible for me to have a washing machine — in my house — and water that I can drink from the tap. I am grateful that my husband and I both have interesting jobs (for the moment) and that, when we didn't, my country didn't let us starve. I am fortunate that, on a day like today, my kids could ride their bikes around the neighborhood and the worst thing I had to fear was a skinned knee. Or that I can hike through the woods with my family anywhere in the nation and our worst enemies are the ticks, snakes and bears. I am lucky to have the luxury of worrying about whether we can pay the cell phone bill and cable bill. The summer trifecta celebrates those freedoms and those gifts from our ancestors. And, now for a little confession. Primarily because I'm getting sick of singing the only five songs I know at bedtime, I've been busting out a few patriotic tunes for the kids. After I sang the National Anthem for Sawyer at bedtime, screeching "land of the FREE" at the end and all, he told me I was a really good singer and should sing for other people, clearly indicating that he's inherited the tone-deafness from me and my father.