The heat has been staggering these first days of July, or maybe I fail to remember just how hot early July can get. Several weeks ago, we made plans to spend the 4th with friends, outside, at a lawn party with the promise of a great view of the city’s fireworks display. The evening event was a fund-raiser for a local historic home, a museum now, and we would be in attendance with several hundred people we did not know, aside of course from our dear friends, Bill and Nancy.
John dreaded the event from day one. I maintained an “oh, this will be fun” attitude until a couple of days before when the heat index began to climb above 100 degrees F. Ugh, July 4th is always hot and humid. We went anyway and as expected, spent several hours sweating in a couple of molded plastic chairs with no air flow through the seat and back panel. Honestly, it didn’t really matter, we had a great time in spite of the heat.
Dinner at the event was purchased from a local food truck. John and I ate obscenely overdressed and overpriced hotdogs and although we know there is nothing healthy about it, we love a good hotdog. We eat only a couple of hotdogs a year and crossed our fingers that this one would be memorable, but it was not. Our friends ordered something fried, chicken maybe with french fries, and ketchup. While their choice may have tasted better, they fared no better health wise.
Aside from dinner, lots of conversation and some very refreshing, homemade, strawberry ice cream, Nancy and I went three rounds in a cake walk. I do not remember participating in a cake walk since elementary school and most certainly I did not know that cake walks played a significant role in the southern slave culture pre–Civil War. Before the cake walk, the young and very knowledgeable director of the Marby-Hazen House provided just enough information to pique my interest to do more research. I do not know about others, but I always believed that cake walks originated in southern church culture.
I also learned that I had a bit of competitive spirit. Based on completing three rounds, I was glad I had not put a little extra cash in my pocket, or I would have purchased tickets and danced around the tiles till the last cake was gone. This is also my only regret for the evening, that I did not walk away with one of the beautiful cakes.
Several hours after we arrived, we moved to a small, crowded hill beside the house. From our perch we could see the city’s fireworks display, grand indeed but shorter than previous years. We were also treated to smaller, yet impressive firework displays in individual neighborhoods across the city. I do not think I will ever be bored with the brilliant splashes of colour or the loud explosion when hundreds of points of light are released, but as I watched, I could not help but reflect on the future of our country and wonder if we were celebrating our last free 4th of July.
Spending time with friends is not all we have been doing recently, although there has been a fair amount of that. Near the end of June, we also went on a short van trip. As the temperature began its climb pre-4th of July, we packed the van, grabbed the dog and headed for higher ground. Our destination, Grayson Highlands State Park, in western Virginia. Located in the Blue Ridge Mountain range, the state park sits at about 4900′ elevation which was just enough to get us above the worst of the heat during the day and cool enough to wear sweatshirts at night.
We spent two nights camping. To our occasional frustration but mostly to our relief, internet and phone service was nonexistent. During the day we walked along the park roads as cloud cover kept the sun in check. The sky often looked stormy, but only a few raindrops fell. In the evening, we sat outside, listening to the song of the cicadas and watching fireflies light up the forest.
Unfortunately, we stayed off the trails on this trip. John has had a tick issue in 2024. We have been told that this is a bountiful year for ticks, and we believe Katie is picking them up in her fur and transferring them to him. Since February, he has completed three rounds of antibiotics to combat irritated bites and does not want to undergo another round if he can avoid doing so. I have been lucky so far (knock on wood), no bites to reports.
This was our first trip in the van since returning home from the southwest in late April. I was glad to get away for a few days and enjoy cooler weather and equally happy to return home. I am not ready to be on the road again for any length of time. We have a certain curly-headed, mop top to spend time with, I have a table filled with partially completed art projects and my bicycle is beckoning to me to ride.
