Welcome to my late night pity party. Your hostess is Pitiful Peril.
(I wrote this last night but decide to post this morning-so I could offer you better snacks.)
Can I offer you a cuppa
would you like turnover?
It was a very long day (July 4th) and while the clock has tick-tocked over to the next day, I am still wide awake, sending my neighborhood explosive thoughts and cursing them in a way that is not very patriotic.
My campers have been up since the first firework went off, at around 5:30 a.m. on July 4th morning. I run camp like General Patton over the 4th of July weekend, and make it as stress-free an experience as I can. Some campers cope better than others, but we all get through it together.
I love fireworks and would never suggest that the laws that are suppose to prevent people from setting them off be enforced because they stress my canine pals, but it would be nice if some of our neighborhood fools launched them during reasonable hours. 1:00 a.m. is not a reasonable hour. No, I won’t call the police, because I am not a neighborhood tattletale and the worse the police could do is shoot them. Instead, I am going to go outside right now and curse them with a curse taught to me by a Jewish friend many, many, years ago. I only wish I could say it in Yiddish: “Tonight when you go to bed may your blood turn to whiskey, so that 100 bedbugs get drunk on it and dance the mazurka in your belly button.”
This 4th of July holiday was hard. Cole missed his dad a lot, I missed Joe a lot and frankly sometimes I fail miserably at pulling holiday fun out of my hat. Sheesh, shouldn’t it be easier by now?
We had enchiladas for dinner because neither of us could deal with barbecuing. Cole, however, did point out that our enchilada sauce was red, the onions were white and our napkins were blue-dios bendiga a América.
Cole came down with a stomachache around 10 p.m. and decided he did not want to light any fireworks. I finally just said what we were both feeling. This year’s 4th of July sucked without Joe. I gave Cole something for his stomach and took Advil for my pounding head.
The last firecracker went off 15 minutes ago… Glorious silence. It’s time to send Pitiful Peril packing. It’s a new day and when I wake up I am going to be ready to ring it in.
So how was your 4th? Leave me a comment if you are so inclined…Odd Loves Company!