Strange, I find myself sort of yearning for July 4th’s past. My early wedded years spent living just outside The Beltway. Heading down, on The Mall, either by Metro… or fighting for parking somewhere just beyond downtown. Snacks packed, junk food bought there amongst the sprawling masses. The spectacle. The celebration. Fireworks like nowhere else, man! There’s nothing like spending a nation’s defining holiday in it’s very own capital. Particularly that of the American variety. Holey Moley, those Yanks do it up right- big, bigger, biggest- for I.D.

Y’know… I think we did that twice. Have you ever tried to make it out of a nation’s capital at the end of the Fourth of July celebration? As the last of the sparks of the Grand Finale dwindle, people are sprinting for a first spot in the Metro station or their vehicles, like extras in a TomCruiseWillSmithBenAffleck action flick, running desperately for their lives, from aliensterroristslavanuclearbombmeteors. And then… the line to cross one of the bridges to get out of Dodge. Hope you saved a corndog….

But then we discovered a cozy little spot across the river, along GW Parkway. Peace, quiet, a picnic and a wonderful view of the fireworks reflected in the Potomac.

And then… we got pregnant… and then had a baby… and we stopped bothering with DC altogether… and for the last couple of years there, remained safely ensconced in our own little corner of suburbia and attended the local community celebration. Just as much fun, honestly. You can trust that no matter the neighborhood, big or small, Americans know how to do up their day.

On this so very American of holidays… which, if not for the presence of dear Husband, would go largely unnoticed in our home here, north of the border. So, in honour of this, the most hallowed of American holidays, we are having our own little celebration. The first official 4th of July celebration in our little lakside neighborhood. There will be friends. Food. Booze…. And of course, fireworks.

There won’t be any flags- little, or no, red, white and blue; no apple pie; and no anthem on loop; but without doubt we’ll still have a good time.

Until the fireworks. We are surrounded by many trees… there will be many kids… and I did mention the booze…. Please just let everyone go home with all of their limbs… and kids.

So… to all Americans… not the least of whom, Husband, mi American Filipes, I wish you a heartfelt, Happy and SAFE, Independence Day. All the best of this July 4th!

Edited to add:  Husband just reminded me of another very special July 4th and despite the fact it did not occur in the United States, our second child was conceived on The Fourth of July…. it’s one of the most worthy of note!

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