A Double Shot of Independence

One of the perks of living in the Center of the Universe is that we get to participate in two Fourth of July celebrations, one of which takes place on the third. Our own home base of Lovetown celebrates in style on Independence Day Eve. This is apparently because the fireworks are cheaper, and a little old town like this one has to watch the bottom line… Things start out with a grand parade including the Sheriff, Mayor, our long-serving State Delegate, and Miss Loudoun County (I had no idea we had our own beauty queen in town!). I was particularly heartened to see a group of Obama supporters marching in the parade (but not, unfortunately, the candidate himself). Nobody out for McCain…A sign, perhaps? One can hope!

We had the good fortune to be invited over to our friends Sean and Amy’s (the lucky Versa owners!) place. They have a sweet little bungalow right on the parade route where we sat beneath a shade tree and watched everybody go by. They were all throwing candy, to Henry’s great joy. He is now a full-on sugar fiend, I have to admit. This is the kid who, not so long ago, asked, “What’s that blackness?” when handed a Petit Ecolier cookie. He didn’t even know what chocolate was! He has since had a course in Candy 101 (mostly from his more worldly cousin Scarlett) and now he’s a connoisseur. To top it all off, Henry’s Grandpa Albert, also invited to the gathering, gave him his first Coke while I was otherwise occupied. Good Lord! Riding that sugar high, Henry had a blast playing basketball and Frisbee with Amy’s nine-year-old Sam and a pack of his friends. When the big boys took off for the Community Center on their bikes, Henry was ready to grab a set of wheels and tag along, only to have mean old mama clip his wings.

We had to cut out early for sleepy Coco’s sake, giving up a front row seat for Lovetown’s world-class fireworks display. Christian did drive Henry to the end of our driveway to watch them while I put the babe to bed… I was so delirious with exhaustion (pretty much a perpetual state) that it took me a few seconds to figure out what the bizarre noise was coming over the monitor. Was relieved to realize it was just the sound of bombs bursting in air.

My folks live nearby in the quaint and more tradition-minded village of Waterford, which holds its parade on the Fourth. The Waterford parade is rather loosely organized--mostly kids in wagons and on bikes, a few tractors and some old cars. The kids and I were actually in this one (as are most of the village’s residents, leaving one wondering who’s left to spectate, but never mind). Once again, Obama was a no-show--mystifying…

The parade was followed by a do on the town green with hot dogs, ice pops (more sugar) and lollipops (bring it on!) and some rousing patriotic numbers sung by the local queen bee tween set. Henry once again found a group of nine-year-old outlaws to hang with, nice kids who tolerated a pesky three-year-old with aplomb.

My sister and family were out for the day and joined us back at the farm for a nap for the kids and some work in the garden for the grown ups. Then we headed down a series of dirt roads to a fête at new friends Jennifer and Michael’s. It was a fun scene and right up my alley--a bunch of Gen-Xers with babies and young kids, tasty barbecue, and a little bit of conversation. They were serving mint juleps, which I can no longer handle (I don’t think I’ve had a drink with hard liquor in it since my bachelorette party!). I opted for a refreshing Verdejo which I’ll have to get the name of. I could have drunk a bucket of that stuff, but stuck to the one glass rule…And cupcakes—my favorite—which always bring back memories of Magnolia bakery in the West Village, back in the day, before the line got so impossibly long.

Henry was a maniac as usual, and I had my hands full as the Ever Lovin’ was gigging (the annual July 4th extravaganza across the river in Hagerstown, MD). Our amazing hosts had rented a moon bounce, which had gotten pretty soggy thanks to some afternoon showers. A few intrepid kids were determined to enjoy it, and mine was first in line! In short order, he had had enough of his wet clothes and proceeded to ditch them all for some naked revelry. Somewhat amazingly, I actually had the foresight to bring a spare outfit and finally got him dressed again after a half-hour or so Then it was on to his next object of fascination: the keg. He insisted on working the pump, and several kind souls let him fill up their cups with foam. When it was time to leave, I literally had to drag him away kicking and screaming and resorted to bribery with--you guessed it-- more candy.

It was an action-packed 24 hours. But I must say, the greatest cause for celebration was our little Coco, who, after conducting herself with great composure through all of the proceedings, went on to sleep through the night (9 to 7—woohoo!) for the first time. Independence indeed!