Fourth of July Blog
I had a refreshing swim, ate way too much potato salad, and the memories of past Fourth of July's creep into my brain. Wes and I are in the front yard as a fire truck zooms by, and I say, "Remember when they came here?"
We had lived here about a year, Wes about 6 years old, and I was in the back bedroom dressing after taking a shower. The boys, about ages 11, 13, 15, 17 had convinced me we needed to see "Fireworks!!!!" I did not allow any in the house, I was a dull mom, and we would go see something exciting after all. "WE never do anything FUN around here!" Wes comes running in, yelling, "Mom, HURRY, FIRE!" "I know, Wes, it's the Fourth of July, and there will be a lot of fireworks. I'll be right out!"
A few minutes later, he barges into my room, "Mom its NOT fireworks, its a real fire, as big as the house, and you need to come now!"
"Wes, you are exaggerating. the other boys are there, and they are not coming with this story!"
Wes comes back, yelling, "Now the police are here, and they are going to arrest the boys and take them to jail! Come quick!"
That brought me running, and I find a fire truck, ambulance, two police cars, and four policemen in my drive. Three boys stand in the garage, one was watching TV indoors, and Wes is standing by my side crying.
"You the Mother?" Apparently a neighbor called the fire department when the flames to a fire shot higher than the stop sign in front of our house. The boys had taken gas from the lawn mower, poured it into a wash pan, and set it on fire. Then they tried to throw small fire crackers into it. Luckily those just fizzled, and did not explode. No one was hurt, no one ended up in the hospital. All the boys had to go to Fire Education classes for 12 weeks. I had to attend with them. When I asked Jeremy, my fire-setter, who was in the house watching TV why he was not out there, he said, "I would never set a fire out in the street where everyone can see it. I always set them in the basement steps, or under the porch. Do you think I'm stupid or something?"
When I was about 19 I traveled to France. I was staying with a family outside of Versailles, and wanted so much to be a part of the celebration of Bastille Day, the 14 of July, similar to our Independence Day. I got permission to go with the young man of the family to Paris on the train hoping to see fireworks and experience the French Holiday. I was disappointed. Nothing was different than a normal day. I waited til late, only to find out the trains were all locked, and this young man naively said, "But of course, the trains don't go back after 11." I was horrified. In that day without cell phones or other communication I felt his family would not forgive me for not returning promptly. No fireworks, no celebration, no return! What a disaster. He took matters into his own hands, and started to hitch hike, flagging down a car filled with foreigners. I mean this was a full car, and I could not understand them, yet I spoke French, English and German. I was not comfortable, being outnumbered and he just jumped into this car. I could not make him understand my worries. I could not leave him, yet I was concerned they understood where we wanted to go!
Our trip was a long one, and I kept mentioning that we could "get out here and walk from this place and get home now!" because I just wanted to be sure we could get away from these ruffians. I had no idea where I was, and I did not know if the young man did, but I felt a responsibility to his parents to get him home. After a long time, suddenly the car stopped, let us out, and I asked the young man, "Where are we?" "Not too far from home." We had at least another 45 minutes to walk, but I was never happier to get home safely to his home than to any house I can recall. The next day I explained everything to the parents, who finally cleared up the confusion showing me yesterday's newspaper. The fireworks and festivities had been the eve of Bastille Day. We had gone the day after, and missed it all. We were both naive. I just wish some one had said to me, you got it wrong!
I can picture the fireworks at Old Forge in the Adirondacks. You can sit on the banks of First Lake, at the parking lot of the Pied Piper, where they make those wonderful hot fudge sundaes, just near the covered bridge. They shoot off the fireworks over your head, and because of the mountains it echoes more loudly than in open areas. Jim and I had been married about two years, and I was pregnant. I had no idea that those loud bangs and explosions would so effect the baby inside, but I was amazed with how baby Annalisa jumped, kicked and danced inside me for that July Fourth before she was born. I sure knew she was a lively baby, but that was before we even knew if it was a boy or a girl, so I really thought those kicks and bounces HAD to be made by a boy. I sure was wrong.
She was born in October. In the delivery room Jim first saw her head, and said, "He looks just like Joey!" Then she came out more, and he said, "His hair is blond just like Joey's!" And then the rest of his body appeared, and the Doctor said, "I think you better look again, Dad!"
After the delivery, Jim shook the Doctor's hand, saying, "I think I could do your job and deliver babies." I would hope he would get better at figuring out whether the baby is a boy or a girl!
We had lived here about a year, Wes about 6 years old, and I was in the back bedroom dressing after taking a shower. The boys, about ages 11, 13, 15, 17 had convinced me we needed to see "Fireworks!!!!" I did not allow any in the house, I was a dull mom, and we would go see something exciting after all. "WE never do anything FUN around here!" Wes comes running in, yelling, "Mom, HURRY, FIRE!" "I know, Wes, it's the Fourth of July, and there will be a lot of fireworks. I'll be right out!"
A few minutes later, he barges into my room, "Mom its NOT fireworks, its a real fire, as big as the house, and you need to come now!"
"Wes, you are exaggerating. the other boys are there, and they are not coming with this story!"
Wes comes back, yelling, "Now the police are here, and they are going to arrest the boys and take them to jail! Come quick!"
That brought me running, and I find a fire truck, ambulance, two police cars, and four policemen in my drive. Three boys stand in the garage, one was watching TV indoors, and Wes is standing by my side crying.
"You the Mother?" Apparently a neighbor called the fire department when the flames to a fire shot higher than the stop sign in front of our house. The boys had taken gas from the lawn mower, poured it into a wash pan, and set it on fire. Then they tried to throw small fire crackers into it. Luckily those just fizzled, and did not explode. No one was hurt, no one ended up in the hospital. All the boys had to go to Fire Education classes for 12 weeks. I had to attend with them. When I asked Jeremy, my fire-setter, who was in the house watching TV why he was not out there, he said, "I would never set a fire out in the street where everyone can see it. I always set them in the basement steps, or under the porch. Do you think I'm stupid or something?"
When I was about 19 I traveled to France. I was staying with a family outside of Versailles, and wanted so much to be a part of the celebration of Bastille Day, the 14 of July, similar to our Independence Day. I got permission to go with the young man of the family to Paris on the train hoping to see fireworks and experience the French Holiday. I was disappointed. Nothing was different than a normal day. I waited til late, only to find out the trains were all locked, and this young man naively said, "But of course, the trains don't go back after 11." I was horrified. In that day without cell phones or other communication I felt his family would not forgive me for not returning promptly. No fireworks, no celebration, no return! What a disaster. He took matters into his own hands, and started to hitch hike, flagging down a car filled with foreigners. I mean this was a full car, and I could not understand them, yet I spoke French, English and German. I was not comfortable, being outnumbered and he just jumped into this car. I could not make him understand my worries. I could not leave him, yet I was concerned they understood where we wanted to go!
Our trip was a long one, and I kept mentioning that we could "get out here and walk from this place and get home now!" because I just wanted to be sure we could get away from these ruffians. I had no idea where I was, and I did not know if the young man did, but I felt a responsibility to his parents to get him home. After a long time, suddenly the car stopped, let us out, and I asked the young man, "Where are we?" "Not too far from home." We had at least another 45 minutes to walk, but I was never happier to get home safely to his home than to any house I can recall. The next day I explained everything to the parents, who finally cleared up the confusion showing me yesterday's newspaper. The fireworks and festivities had been the eve of Bastille Day. We had gone the day after, and missed it all. We were both naive. I just wish some one had said to me, you got it wrong!
I can picture the fireworks at Old Forge in the Adirondacks. You can sit on the banks of First Lake, at the parking lot of the Pied Piper, where they make those wonderful hot fudge sundaes, just near the covered bridge. They shoot off the fireworks over your head, and because of the mountains it echoes more loudly than in open areas. Jim and I had been married about two years, and I was pregnant. I had no idea that those loud bangs and explosions would so effect the baby inside, but I was amazed with how baby Annalisa jumped, kicked and danced inside me for that July Fourth before she was born. I sure knew she was a lively baby, but that was before we even knew if it was a boy or a girl, so I really thought those kicks and bounces HAD to be made by a boy. I sure was wrong.
She was born in October. In the delivery room Jim first saw her head, and said, "He looks just like Joey!" Then she came out more, and he said, "His hair is blond just like Joey's!" And then the rest of his body appeared, and the Doctor said, "I think you better look again, Dad!"
After the delivery, Jim shook the Doctor's hand, saying, "I think I could do your job and deliver babies." I would hope he would get better at figuring out whether the baby is a boy or a girl!
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