Posted by peskypippi | Posted in Celebrations, Childhood, Holidays, Memories, Summer | Posted on 03-07-2012
The 4th of July is my favorite holiday.
It is the holiday that screams summer, family, yummy food, and celebration.
As a kid, when I spent summers in Missouri, I’d shake my apple bank empty. (I had a bank where you would insert a coin and the worm would grab it and take it to the inside of the apple = coolest bank ever!) I shoved the handfuls of coins into my pockets until they bulged. Then I would climb on my bubble gum-pink Schwinn–with the banana seat–and bolt to the nearest fireworks tent, Famous Dave’s.
Back then, $5 would buy a lot of awesomeness. Smoke bombs, Piccolo Petes, Roman candles, sparklers, snakes (that would make a permanent black mark on my Dad’s driveway), and bottle rockets–my favorite! Those suckers are illegal where we live now. Just the other night, when my 13-year-old son and I were buying fireworks, how you’d balance the glass Coke bottle on the wooden fence, drop in a bottle rocket, light the fuse with your punk, and run.
On the 4th, my Dad always made ice cream. The old-fashioned kind. Always vanilla. With ice and rock salt and a crank. It took way too long.
The street asphalt would bubble under the sweltering heat. I often went shoeless. Coming home after meandering through our neighborhood on my bike–with black-bottomed feet–I just in time to help with the final cranking of the ice cream, and suck on an ice cube laden with salt, until the ice cream was ready.
It was the 4th. And it was a celebration of all of my senses.
Happy 4th of July!
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