Fourth of July Visit

It was with relief that I woke up to peace and quiet this morning. This hushed fifth of July – birthday of my beautiful Marta and of the Dali Lama – is a welcome contrast to the sounds of insanity of yesterday.

Open for Business

We went to sleep last night feeling like we were living on the edge of a war zone. The explosions were continuous and seemed endless – some from a few doors north in Oysterville, but most from the ocean beach just a mile to the west. I drifted off thinking of all the money being blown up and wondering if we’d be awakened to the sound of fire engines. Or the smell of smoke.

Patriotic Pies!

The night proved uneventful; Oysterville appears to be still intact. But, still, I held my breath as I took a quick took at FaceBook to see if the rest of the Peninsula escaped unscathed. The pictures of the crowds on the beach and of the ‘bombs bursting in air’ were amazing. Everyone looked happy and in a celebratory mood. Yet, I could almost hear that unseen background noise…

Patriotism, Oysterville Style

My own images of our Fourth were so simplistic by comparison – so safe and sane looking. You’d never know there was chaos happening so very close by. I wonder if that’s the way it is a mile away from the front lines in real war zones.  And why is it, again, that we celebrate our independence so loudly and dangerously?  I rather visit friends and eat pie.