On The Mountain, Part II

This summer was the first time we've been gone on vacation during the fourth of July in a long time... well, maybe in forever.  Yesterday's post was getting too long and self-indulgent.  So, I saved more self-indulgence for today.  Three of the four girls on Independence Day.

I have so much to say after weeks of cyber-silence, languishing in my quiet, unscheduled days.  But there were some issues with CB that came up on the trip.  Her neurologist found me through the cell phone waves to report CB's latest results from her blood work and so we were back to the phlebotomists for a second blood draw yesterday and re-visit Dr. T later today.  We sort of hit the ground running upon our return, and so much is rolling around in my head waiting to be birthed onto the page.  The thoughts threaten to dump out of my skull at the slightest tilt of my head.

But I'll bite my tongue and finish processing the last of what was sweet and calm and relaxing and pure until I get back to the real life that bit us in the ass within 24 hours of returning home.

This small town boasted a 5 minute parade where every child participated on their decorated bikes.  I love the simplicity of it.  Bigger and high-tech is not always better.  

I went berserk when I found a few boxes of sparklers sitting in a basket at 'Ye Old Tiny Convenience Store' in the town square.  I immediately had flash backs to my childhood summers; my scrawny grasshopper legs running through our yard, grass tickling my bare toes, waving shooting sparklers through the humid air. Smelling the carbon in the thread of smoke rising from the barbs of shooting stars.

Though Dr. Fabulous gently fought me on this, fearful the girls were going to somehow lose an eye or suffer 9th degree burns on these death sticks, I assured him that this was a part of their childhood that could not be skipped.  

So, that's a wrap.   Eyeballs in tact.