I have joined a fantastic group of ladies, who are involved in a weekly blog project. Every Thursday, we will dazzle you with our insight on various topics. And each week, we take turns coming up with the idea for the blog topic. Please check out their blogs as well, listed under my Blogroll section. Just click on:
Froggie (Tracey): An experiment in knitting, writing- and life
Merry Land Girl (Melissa): Tales of a suburban mom who likes to talk about pop culture, books, Judaism, family, friendship and anything else that comes to mind.
Mom Of Many (Susanna): One Mom’s perspective on life, raising kids, knitting and other unrelated topics.
Melissa’s choice for a topic this week was: What are some of your favorite memories from the 4th of July?
I’ve been trying hard to remember something from my childhood, but I can’t seem to. I do remember my dad lighting the fireworks (he always loved to do that) but I don’t remember anything other than that. It was always left up to my dad to be the one to light everything while the rest of us watched.
However, since 2002, it’s been tradition to go to a good friend’s cabin, and celebrate the 4th with her and her family. I remember the very first time I ever went. The cabin itself isn’t some traditional wood house; it’s a trailer parked alongside a lake. I’d never seen anything like that before moving to Nebraska, but out here, it’s standard. One of the neighbors had a dock located right out in the middle of the lake, and I decided to swim out to it and just sun myself, enjoying the gorgeous day. It seemed as though even though I had some chaotic circumstances going on in my life, the cabin was a reprieve. It helped to relax me, and forget for at least a day any troubles I might have.
Every year since, I would go. One year, we took a paddleboat out onto the lake, my friend and I, in pitch black darkness, the only light from the various fireworks other cabins were shooting off. Another year, a friend of hers had come out and I remember dancing a jig with him. I had only met him that one time, and I am sure I will never run into him again, but it was so hilarious and crazy! I would say the funniest year was when I had proceeded to get drunk, and yell at some woman who I nicknamed “Booby”, due to her boob job: “You stay away from us Booby, these are MY bitches!” (Referring to a couple of good girlfriends).
After my first son was born, he was barely 2 months old when he was inducted into the cabin lifestyle. He took a nap for me in the cabin, which had all the comforts of home with beds. Every year since, he’s gone to the cabin.
This year, we might not get to do the cabin, for various reasons. This really saddens me, because this is a tradition nearly 10 years in the making!
It’s not just tradition, come to think of it. It’s like I had mentioned before, with it being a reprieve. At the cabin, you can forget your troubles. You pretty much leave them at the gate as you drive into the community. You sit back, relax under what you hope to be gorgeous weather, drinking a beer, or in my case, some foo-foo drink. The food is amazing; ribs that fall right off the bone, or my good friend might choose to make cabin burgers that year, you just never know. I always bring the obligatory veggie and fruit tray (that IS tradition) and we sit around and shoot the shit.
If we don’t do the 4th at the cabin this year, such is life. But I can say in all honesty that whatever else we would do in it’s place this year, won’t even compare.