Red, White and Blue

Fourth of July is a swell of activity in our town. The day starts off with Paul Revere riding through the streets warning us of the oncoming Brits. The children dress in patriotic costumes and the rest of us wave red, white and blue as classic cars and fire engines line up and parade down the main street. We have a ceremony with the naming of the signers of the Declaration of Independence and a releasing of pigeons – one for each colony (Although I’m not sure how the Founding Fathers fit this into their own celebration). We have an afternoon of tournaments and pool games, and after all this we head up to the top of a hill where everyone gathers for a town-size picnic complete with games and fireworks. It’s a great event. Generations come back for it - my immediate family, my grandmother, mother, sisters and their families, cousins, etc., are all together. Everyone is in some version of our country’s colors. I always panic because I usually can’t wear them, but for the love of the 4^th and all that it stands for, who am I to not get out a red dress?