I don’t usually write on Monday, but Monday usually isn’t a federal holiday, so I’m breaking the rules a little bit.
As we know, yesterday was Independence Day, the Fourth of July.
No one can complain louder or longer when the weather turns hotter than Elaine, usually around the Fourth of July. Last year, the beervirus canceled the smalltown fireworks show that we had been accustomed to attending. Last Fourth of July, Elaine and I decided to beat the heat and the beervirus and take a car ride to Snowy Range, Wyoming. As the name would imply, Snowy Range has of all things, snow, even on the Fourth of July. It also has an abundance of wildflowers, crystal clear lakes, waterfalls, and last year, a bunch of people hiding from the beervirus.
Lately, I have watched and read people on social media discussing the pros and cons of Independence Day fireworks. It seems most people like fireworks as long as they are not by their house or they don’t like them at all. Me? If you have seen fireworks, you have seen fireworks. Some are pretty, some are loud. I guess if I was a dog or suffered from PTSD, I might have a stronger opinion.
For reasons unknown to me, Elaine told me she wanted to attend the smalltown fireworks show this Fourth of July. I agreed it would be fun, knowing in the back of my mind, Elaine nor I would want to actually make the one-hour drive to the show.
None of what I’ve written deserves a Monday story. But here is the crazy part. Elaine and I awoke Fourth of July morning and decided to duplicate last year's trip to the Snowys (Not misspelled, you can call them that). It definitely was not going to be hot; the flowers would be pretty and we enjoy car rides together.