Windchimes

Independence Day in GA

Just hugged my 20 (almost 21) year old pscychology major, cheesecake baker daughter as she skipped out to a friend's party. Hugged her, waved bye-bye forever to the cheesecakes. She says she'll try to bring us back some. That's a brownie-swirl cheesecake and a Heathbar cheesecake. We'll never see a trace of those again. I should be thankful. I shouldn't eat any of it anyway. Thank you, Constance.

Yeah, right.

Recent state legislation has reinstated fire-cracker play as a legal activity, on a limited basis. I think they can fly only a certain distance upwards. This will probably have similar results to speed limit postings. When the speed limit was 55 miles an hour, most folks went 70. Now that it's 70, most folks go around 85. No anti-fire-cracker law kept folks from playing with them during the many years they've been illegal. They just waited till nighttime, usually. All day long today, and starting late yesterday, the short silences occasionally interrupt the crackle-bangs.

Clouds threatened the fuse-fun all day long, and now they're making good on their threats. Just heard a little girl chanting "rain, rain, go away." It hasn't stopped everything, though. Just slowed it down a little.

We lived close to the lake where they used to shoot off the city's official Fourth of July fireworks, back when my 24 year old Stephen was 2, 3 & 4. (And Joseph was 1, 2 & 3 and Constance was 1 & 2) When I say we lived close to the lake, I in no way mean to imply posh digs. Nice neighborhood, horrible duplex, but just a short walk to a good watching-spot. No parking and unparking nightmares. We'd drag the kids and a blanket down to the lake, pick a patch of grass and wait for the show. It never failed, whichever one was youngest cried through the whole thing, as soon as the banging started. Pretty sensible, really, to be afraid when you hear something exploding. Sensible, but not as much fun.

Nowadays, the three oldest are all thrill-seekers. Joseph called the other day to tell us he'd just been sky-diving. When he was in Kuwait, he volunteered to go to Baghdad. Constance wants a motorcycle. Stephen probably doesn't tell me how far he goes with his particular brand of thrill-seeking. I love him (of course) and I even like him. He's fun to be around, now that he doesn't live here. But I never kid myself into thinking he tells me the whole truth about certain things.

Constance and Faith still live at home. Faith finishes high school next spring, and she wants to leave town for college. Constance should have her BA in Psych pretty soon after Faith finishes high school. I think I'll graduate with a BA in French and English in fall 2006. Then there's a teaching certificate to get, and a masters degree. Sometime during all this, I hope to start a teaching career.

Independence indeed.

J.H. Larrew
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