Happy 4th of July

I rarely look back at my childhood.  I prefer the now and what is going on in the present so much that I don't want to let my mind wander back to those times.  There are a few memories that I don't mind revisiting and one of those centers around the 4th of July.  It was the most wonderful day of summer vacation.  Our entire neighborhood would get together for a block party that started in the early afternoon with all the kids - and there were at least 40 of us in only 10 houses - swimming in the Charlton's pool.  The little kids - under 8 yrs. old swam first and then the older kids went in.  Each group got about an hour and a half.  After that we all got Popsicles, soda, cookies or other treats to hold us over until the bar-b-cued food was ready.  We would break up into groups.  Some would ride bikes, others would play hide and seek, and a then there was a group of girls, me included, who would play Jacks.  As the afternoon went on, one of the older boys would gather us all together on the hill that separated our yard from the Bloomer's house next door to play "Who Dies the Best."  I swear to God!  He would get a toy gun and take a play shot at each of us, one at a time, and we would take turns dying in the most dramatic way we could possible go down.  Then everyone would vote on who died the best and they got the be the shooter for the next round.  Oh, my God!  Can you imagine children playing that game today?  Back then it was so innocent.  There were so many cowboy shows on TV and some of them had these dramatic death scenes when the bad cowpoke was shot.  We were just imitating that.  There was no gun violence in teenagers and children in the early '60's.  No one could ever imagine a child shooting another child.  To this day, when I see my friends from the old neighborhood we still talk about "Who Dies the Best" and how we would never allow our own kids or grandkids to play such a game.

Anyway, back to the point.  After a wonderful dinner of hamburgers, hot dogs, potato chips, pickles, potato salad, and corn on the cob.  My dad would bring out an old wooden ice cream maker and everyone would take turns turning the handle until the contents froze into delicious homemade ice cream.  He usually made butterscotch which was my favorite.  Everyone got a serving and enjoyed it so much especially after working so hard to make it.  When it got dark,  all the kids sat on the curb and watched the grown ups light box after box of fireworks.  The loud whistles that some of them made had us covering our ears.  When all the big ones had been set off, we each had a box of sparklers to light.  The rule was that as soon as it went out, it had to be put in a bucket of water so no one would get burned.  We all had to wear tennis shoes - no bare feet and we had to have an adult light the sparkler.  I can still remember the smell of sulphur in the air at the end of the night. 

When my own kids were little, fireworks were banned in our neighborhood. There were too many trees and dry bush that could catch on fire.  We went to a few fireworks shows over the years and some parties with friends but we didn't establish the traditional celebration that I had growing up.

Tomorrow, we are going to a bar-b-cue at the home of my friend, Sylvia's daughter and son-in-law.  Sylvia's kids are the closet thing I have to a niece and nephews so I'm looking forward to seeing them.  My son and his family will be there, too.  That will be so nice to have time with them.  The place will be crawling with kids from babies in arms up to about 10 years old.  I'm going to find a shady spot and sit back and watch the fun.

Happy 4th of July!