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Happy Fourth

Happy Independence Day. Let’s face it, most of us are not going to pay tribute to the men with guns that created a nation where we are free to drink and blow (Construction language) up on the Fourth of July every year. Forget the Fourth, it is only the third and my social media page (It surprises you that I know what a social media page is, right? Well, I do.) is full of people complaining about neighbors that have been blowing (construction language) up for a week.

Blowing (construction language) up is mostly illegal in Northern Colorado, even though it is not illegal in southern Wyoming, where a person can take a short drive and purchase enough (construction language) to keep your government at bay for a couple of months.


Even though Elaine and I were in Southern Wyoming just yesterday, we did not bring into Colorado anything to blow (construction language) up. Oh no, Elaine is the self-appointed police person of all things related to the word fire, and would not allow anything that could be brought into tinder-dry northern Colorado.

Truthfully, I’m not really into blowing up small (construction language). My construction career enabled my desire to blow (construction language) up. I was able to blow up a mountain side in Central City, Colorado to make room for a now-defunct casino. You guys with that wimpy Wyoming stuff have nothing on me.


I might have drifted a little there.


Thinking back as a child, my brothers and I didn’t shoot off many fireworks at our house. My dad saw his mother murdered by his stepfather. He didn’t like things that sounded like gunfire. We were able to do those sparkler things. We would try to write our names with the sparks. That was good for about two minutes and I would start looking for the day’s picnic potato salad.

So, there will not be a Fourth of July celebration at our home this year. Boy Twin is in Nebraska. I guarantee he and his friends are blowing (construction language) up. He says it is to water ski and fish, but they drove right through Wyoming to get to Nebraska.


Girl Twin is in Montana. I can’t guarantee she is blowing (construction language) up, but she also drove through Wyoming to get to Montana.


If I want potato salad, I will need to make it myself, and frankly, it sounds good, but not good enough to make it myself. Elaine and I, and even Ivy will spend the weekend running errands, watering and feeding the chickens (generic for all poultry), knitting (Ivy), weaving (Elaine), and remembering that mountain side (me). I hope the twins use good sense. Neither Ivy, Elaine, nor I know any out-of-state lawyers and bondsmen. Just sayin’.

Have a happy and safe Fourth of July. Take a couple of minutes and say a prayer of thanks to the guys with guns that made it possible to ride your jet ski on this three-day (or four-day) holiday.


Don’t forget Hot August Knits is coming. Oh, wait! We don’t participate in that anymore. Well, order online from us and don’t spend five dollars/gal driving to yarn stores. Oh come on, it was just a suggestion. I have nothing to do with gas prices, I’m just trying to save you time and money.


Help Ukraine if you can. God Bless. Don’t get blown up!


Our crazy lives!


Monner

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