4th of July weekend is a bit of a trial for those of us who live in tourist towns. Doubly so for me, because I live on tribal land. (It’s leased property – I’m white as they come.) There are no fireworks restrictions here, and… wow. Can you imagine?
I try to have patience, and be grateful that I get to live here year-round instead of only being able to visit once or twice a year. And I take heart in the thought that it’s the sound of people having fun with their friends and family, and that’s a pretty nice thing to hear.
(Earlier today, coming home from running errands, there’s a bit where you turn from the sun-blasted highway onto a road lined with big trees that arch overhead like a leafy cathedral, a tunnel through the cool, dark woods. The car in front of me had Arizona plates, and when they turned onto the road, the driver braked and wobbled a little, like “!!!” I imagine it was the [perfectly understandable] shock of a desert-dweller encountering The Woods. Funny stuff!)
Finished the pinkandpurple Trekking XXL socks last night!
Hey Brady, can I have my pants, please?