It's awfully noisy out there

I'm sure an actual war sounds much worse and completely different, but what it sounds like out there, in my neighborhood, is gunshots, cannon, rockets, popcorn popping, cap guns, bacon frying (oh no!) and some extremely large animal rooting around in a monstrous pile of crisp dry leaves. There's not much light visible from these shenanigans. I hope they are being done in a joyous spirit and that everybody retains the eyes and fingers they were born with when it is all over.

David and I drove out to Eden Prairie to have an indoor picnic with my mother and admire her progress in making miniatures for dollhouses. We saw a few bits of various fireworks displays as we drove east and north back to Minneapolis.

It's still very sticky, as it has been for several days, flattening me completely, but it's no longer so hot.

I've never been much for Fourth of July celebrations, though I usually reread the Declaration of Independence. It has the sweetness of immediacy and the bitterness of irony, this year.

Pamela