Fourth of July in the 'hood...

Aerial view of the greater neighborhood whose identity spans decades...
...as do their legendary celebrations...

Wow. We were warned. I mean...informed. Not one, but three parishioners called to ask if we 'know about the traditional celebration of the 4th' in our neck of the woods. It's decades old. And it's big.

Multiple parties started it off on Thursday night, some closing down the street. At the end of our block, parks 'n' rec picnic tables (in a small town, you can borrow anything) surrounded a home. A port-a-potty stood sentinel at the corner. Across the pond, the house that has become famous for festive music late into the night kept it's reputation for enhancing the mood until well after midnight.

The morning parade on the 4th was said to be 'smaller than usual'. Translation: no elephants or tigers...though they've had them in the past. An official baton twirler led it off, followed by bagpipers. Close behind: the large duck - I didn't get the story on him but I'm betting there is one.

Vehicles ranged from fire trucks to oldsters to jeeps and all the way down to golf carts. Impressively long!!!

The older set who had birthed this parade when their children were young walked the route boasting a 'Sex in the City' theme. Unfortunately...that picture got deleted from the full camera card to make room for others.


There is a 'W' missing before the 'TF' below! Gas prices drove the theme for the day. Even the grand marshal putt-putted on a wee scooter.



Pony rides were available on this corner before the parade. After the parade, 50,000 firecrackers (smoke bombs???) were thickly blanketed along the side of the road...producing, well....a highly impressive blanket of sound and smoke. A fitting end to a grand event.

But the parties went on!


A parishioner's grandfather - he'll be 100 on his next birthday. A treasured folk artist in this state. He carved, painted, etched and decorated the above walking stick. A highlight of the day for me: holding it and turning it as I read, aloud, the poem he cleverly wove into the design. I can't remember the name of the poem or poet...but, ironically, it did include something about failing memory.


The view from the grandfather's seat: A young boy rests on the largest tree swing I've ever seen. The lot straight ahead has a historic house on it that was the clubhouse when the greater area was a golf course.

The day ended with the longest fireworks display ever - well over half an hour - launched from two barges on the lake. Lucy and I drove to a point just beyond the lower right corner of the above google earth map and viewed them through the windshield. The barge was directly in front of us and therefore the show was deafening! Returning home a bit shell-shocked, we were (unfortunately) treated to more fireworks, this time launched from a house two doors down. I do mean launched. Barge-worthy.