{As written from a deck, under a gracefully-swaying weeping willow, in the 93 degree breeze, while Jack's at the White Sox game!}This was certainly an interesting four-day weekend.
I started off the weekend by routing through Michigan City on Friday morning, clearing out the holiday sidewalk sales to replenish my supply of suits, shells, and heels. I found great deals and happily succumbed to the retail therapy...in truth, the lining of my last good pair of dress pants fell out on Thursday evening and I wasn't going to pay $30 to have it replaced (not when new pants are $39 on sale).
I digress!
Then I resumed my highway travels to SB, where after running a couple errands, set up shop at SkyBlue and Lou's house. SkyBlue and I floated around all day on our respective rafts, relishing the hot sunshine and cool, turquoise pool water. The guys joined us in the evening, Jack after his last official day at the Crayola Company, Lou after work, and Zibby and Brady after their shifts. Jack whipped up a Food Network feast on the grill and Brady retaliated by drinking the house's supply of alcohol, in delayed celebration of his 21st birthday.
Saturday was nearly an exact carbon copy of Friday, pool-and-family-wise. Mom D joined us for cookout and after a few heated rounds of cornhole, we basked in the pool. The pool provides the forum for uninterrupted family gatherings...none of us talk to each other nearly as much as we do during pool season (particularly over holidays). When the snow and winds of winter arrive with their chilling vengeance, we all reflect back on those hot, lazy pool days.
Jack and I, exhausted from Friday and Saturday in the sun, headed for home (read: "home" now defined as Chicagoland). Upon exiting from the Interstate, I crested the exit ramp and was greeted by a fabulous display of fireworks on the horizon at dusk.
Upon turning down our street, we discovered the world's largest block party in progress. The house on the corner had a band (a good band) and must have spent thousands of dollars on those huge shell fireworks. From the comfort of our deck, we bopped along with the music and enjoyed perfect, front-row seat for the fireworks.
On Sunday, after our usual church/brunch combo, we returned home to relax on the deck and read our respective novels. I just relish the emotional freedom of an unscheduled day. After a few hours of reading and hanging out together, we ambled down to the town festival (smaller version of 4H fair) and our church's beer garden. Sparsely populated, we instead opted for a dinner out together. On the way home, again at dusk, we were treated by the hundreds of top-quality fireworks on the horizon.
Now, since we live on the IN/IL border, illegal fireworks abound. They are illegal in IL, so Chicagoans come to the northwest reaches of Indiana to satisfy their illegitimate firework desires. As a result, everyone has access to the stellar firework supplies.
We took advantage of everyone else's willingness to spend their hard-earned cash on exploding packets of gunpowder. At dusk, after leaving dinner, we parked at the local high school and sat on the hood (it was so 1986!). The fireworks were so plentiful that we didn't even know where to look. I could continuously scan the horizon and see dozens of displays. All those displays created such noise pollution with the "bang, pop, whiz, eeeeeeeee, bang, bang, pops" that we felt like we were in Chinese firework testing facilities.
Then I resumed my highway travels to SB, where after running a couple errands, set up shop at SkyBlue and Lou's house. SkyBlue and I floated around all day on our respective rafts, relishing the hot sunshine and cool, turquoise pool water. The guys joined us in the evening, Jack after his last official day at the Crayola Company, Lou after work, and Zibby and Brady after their shifts. Jack whipped up a Food Network feast on the grill and Brady retaliated by drinking the house's supply of alcohol, in delayed celebration of his 21st birthday.
Saturday was nearly an exact carbon copy of Friday, pool-and-family-wise. Mom D joined us for cookout and after a few heated rounds of cornhole, we basked in the pool. The pool provides the forum for uninterrupted family gatherings...none of us talk to each other nearly as much as we do during pool season (particularly over holidays). When the snow and winds of winter arrive with their chilling vengeance, we all reflect back on those hot, lazy pool days.
Jack and I, exhausted from Friday and Saturday in the sun, headed for home (read: "home" now defined as Chicagoland). Upon exiting from the Interstate, I crested the exit ramp and was greeted by a fabulous display of fireworks on the horizon at dusk.
Upon turning down our street, we discovered the world's largest block party in progress. The house on the corner had a band (a good band) and must have spent thousands of dollars on those huge shell fireworks. From the comfort of our deck, we bopped along with the music and enjoyed perfect, front-row seat for the fireworks.
On Sunday, after our usual church/brunch combo, we returned home to relax on the deck and read our respective novels. I just relish the emotional freedom of an unscheduled day. After a few hours of reading and hanging out together, we ambled down to the town festival (smaller version of 4H fair) and our church's beer garden. Sparsely populated, we instead opted for a dinner out together. On the way home, again at dusk, we were treated by the hundreds of top-quality fireworks on the horizon.
Now, since we live on the IN/IL border, illegal fireworks abound. They are illegal in IL, so Chicagoans come to the northwest reaches of Indiana to satisfy their illegitimate firework desires. As a result, everyone has access to the stellar firework supplies.
We took advantage of everyone else's willingness to spend their hard-earned cash on exploding packets of gunpowder. At dusk, after leaving dinner, we parked at the local high school and sat on the hood (it was so 1986!). The fireworks were so plentiful that we didn't even know where to look. I could continuously scan the horizon and see dozens of displays. All those displays created such noise pollution with the "bang, pop, whiz, eeeeeeeee, bang, bang, pops" that we felt like we were in Chinese firework testing facilities.
Or, you know, some place like Afghanistan!
It was a memorable experience and while we wanted to go downtown and watch Navy Pier fireworks, we figured we could do that anytime (since NP has nightly fireworks).
It's quite bizarre to be away from our families on holidays. I couldn't imagine my friends in Florida, Texas, Iowa, or North Dakota, who are unable to drive home and see their families on a whim. Nonetheless, Jack and I are far enough away to redefine ourselves, dive into our careers, determine what we want to do with our lives, and assert our newfound independence...on Independence Day!
It was a memorable experience and while we wanted to go downtown and watch Navy Pier fireworks, we figured we could do that anytime (since NP has nightly fireworks).
It's quite bizarre to be away from our families on holidays. I couldn't imagine my friends in Florida, Texas, Iowa, or North Dakota, who are unable to drive home and see their families on a whim. Nonetheless, Jack and I are far enough away to redefine ourselves, dive into our careers, determine what we want to do with our lives, and assert our newfound independence...on Independence Day!
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