This piece was composed with a loving nod to Danielle,
who—to my knowledge—started this whole “by numbers” thing one Christmas.
Happy Belated 4th, my friend!
who—to my knowledge—started this whole “by numbers” thing one Christmas.
Happy Belated 4th, my friend!
- Minutes we were late for the Independence Day parade because Daddy was yakking on the phone: 10.
- Minutes Momma brooded over being late for the parade: 10. (All things being equal.)
- Bigger little girls who confronted Camille over the piece of parade candy that fell between them and won (but only just): one.
- Pieces of candy that conked the momma in the head: one. (It was a candy ring. Ow.)
- Politicians at the parade: at least 13. Not forgetting Al Franken’s son, who wisely did not approach me with a bumper sticker.
- Photos that I took at Parade: too many. So many, in fact, that my memory card filled up and I was finally able to put the stupid camera away without guilt.
- Naps taken after the parade: seven, including one abbreviated version by an older gal who then leapt from the couch to go feverishly assemble fruit kebobs.
- Times that my prone-to-excessive-worry middle child asked me when we were leaving for the lakeside get-together: 7? 8? I stopped listening.
- Adults at the lakeside get-together: Goodness, I’m going to take a guess here and venture 50.
- Kids: As many as adults, times five.
- Friends from our parish who teased me about my tattoo: at least three. (In my defense, I was twenty when I got it. Tell me you didn’t do incriminating things when you were twenty.)
- Number of rain showers that ended the fun: one. And it didn’t. We were of hardy stock and it subsided.
- Times the door to the house got left open: 247.
- Flies in the house: twice that. (I’m only kidding. This house was far too beautiful to have flies.)
- Men of the cloth at the party enjoying boat rides, beer and lots of laughter: four (thanks be to God).
- Pyromaniac fathers lighting off obscenely large explosives (including Father D., our priest): six.
- Outdoor displays that lit up the sky on our drive home: at last count, 437. (I’m serious! Stephen counted.)
- Video tapes of yours truly belting out The Star-Spangled Banner: 0. (Sorry, Kristen!)
- Number of times that I thanked our good God for this great country: infinity.
Ooooooooh. So much fun!!!!
Great pictures! I love the little pony tailed girl and the sweet boy feeding his mama!
Sorry about your head. Maybe next year…patriotic hard hats?
Sounds like a good time. I’m glad I’m not the only one with pyromaniac adult males lighting off obscenely large explosives.
Much better than the goings-on this side of the Twin Cities. (although I did two stupid things in my twenties and am always teased about them now…)
Last year Marcus got conked in the head with a toothbrush (the dentists were throwing them out instead of candy…I actually loved the idea minus the head thing).
Loved your wrap-up and photos.
Sounds like a truly happy 4th of July in Minnesota!
Sounds like a wonderful time!
God Bless you and yours!
What’s your tattoo? 🙂
The only way I’ll reveal the nature of my tattoo is if some of you ladies come forward and admit that you have one, too.
Or…gasp!…am I the only one?
OOH, a tattoo? It sounds like so much fun was had by all.
I could put on a temporary tatoo if you’d like…?
We also had a wonderful parade, in which we were in, the Pro Life Kids Club (mostly homeschoolers) all dressed in red, we were the ones right before the DFL float, how ironic is that?
I wanted to get one when I was in Scotland because I thought it was the perfect opportunity. I was by myself and no one would know. It would have been my little secret!
Never actually worked up enough courage to do it though which is a good thing because the location I would have chosen would have changed that daisy to a ferris wheel every time I got pregnant!!!
Huge coincidence, Matilda: I got mine because of a girl that I roomed with while studying art in…Scotland!
She had a butterfly tattoed on her right shoulder blade, which inspired the location of mine.
Still not saying what it is, though, and Matilda, don’t you tell!
Jamie: I so admire you for marching with the Pro Life group on the 4th. I pray you gave those DFLers pause…
Yes, I figure at least one of those DFLers thought “wow, look at all those beautiful children, maybe I should be pro-life” There were alot of us, probably about 40 total.
Is your tatoo a cup of coffee? 🙂
Seriously Margaret… a bundt cake? Haven’t you taken this Minnesota pride thing a little too far?
(insert wicked laugh here) heheheh!:)
Oh you motorcycle mamas! I have one on my right arm that has mine and my hubs’ names in hearts held together by a ribbon in a bluebird’s mouth. Yeah, it’s pretty hideous and was a huge mistake. I was 19 and dumb as a box… at least I won’t forget how to spell my name. Durrrrrr.
Thank you, Laura! You are the only brave one in the bunch!
Well, ever true to my word and since yesterday was First Friday, I’ll come forward with my admission: my tattoo is of the Sacred Heart of Jesus.
Young (yes) and dumb (often)….but a Catholic through-and-through! 😉
Except the design has faded over the years and my friends are now like, “Is that a tomato?”
I’ve never had a tattoo…but I did have a belly button ring. (gasp!)
Hey, at least you can let those heal over and no one ever has to know the ugly truth… 🙂
LOL, the other day when I was here, I was going to guess that it was a monstrance!!!!! Margaret, I know you so well!
Okay, I’ve got about ten or so…:-)
They’re little, tiny, freckle-like things that the radiation oncologist imprinted upon my skin so I’d never forget life is a precious gift. Actually, he put them there so he could line up the lead shields while he zapped me. My kids think they are way cool.