The Fifth of July

What a glorious Fourth of July weekend it was. From Friday straight through Sunday evening, it was a warm, sun-soaked weekend spent on the deck with family and friends, food, beverages, laughter, and oh, did I mention food?

It was one of those rare weekends where one gets to do pretty much what one intended to do in one’s mind’s eye.

Went to visit mom and listen to her tell Denise how tan she is, like I wasn’t even there. I have some color too! And they both got to talking about how retirement is. Grrrr.

Then went to see dad at Catholic Memorial Home and bring him out on the piazza, and sit and chat in the nice warm breeze overlooking the beautiful setting of the St. Vincent’s Home chapel and its tree-lined surrounding. I even got to roll around in his wheelchair as we sat there.

It was a weekend where my Red Sox gas grill worked overtime — tanks be to God (alright, that was bad one).

Throughout the weekend I sizzled up some sirloin tips, cheeseburgers, St. Louis ribs, and corn on the cob. And some shrimp on the barbie!

I’ll have to walk a few extra miles this week to make up for all the anti-health food intake, but the Fourth only comes once a year.

The only hitch was that we can no longer watch Boston’s coverage of the Pops at the Esplanade until the national coverage kicks in. Our cable provider, in its infinite wisdom, considers us to be part of Rhode Island, so they took away our WBZ Channel 4 in lieu of WPRI Channel 12 in Providence. We live in Massachusetts people!

Anyway, as I hit the sack that night of the Fourth, I reminisced about the great three days I just spent, and awoke this morning (Tuesday) still feeling good.

I looked out the window this morning knowing it was raining, but that was fine; we needed it, I didn’t have to water our plants, and it was a work day. It was fine until I glanced at my car and noticed I had neglected to shut my car windows. Luckily everyone was sleeping and only Igor got to hear what was said next.

I dried off all the electronics on the front doors, hoping they would still function, and I got to ride to work sitting on the most absorbent towel I had and stuffed face cloths in puddles in the change holders in each door — all while running my defrosters at full blast to get rid of the fog on my windshield and rear window.

Not the best way to start a new week. I guess that’s why we never hear too much about the Fifth of July.

© 2018 The Anchor and Anchor Publishing   †   Fall River, Massachusetts