someday somebody's gonna ask you

He said he’d been antisocial and spent the holiday on his roof watching the tops of fireworks peek over trees from miles and miles away. I spent it on my neighbor’s deck watching them explode over Elliot Bay and having my mind wander sometimes to what he was doing and sometimes to how fortunate I was to be surrounded by tipsy friends with s’mores on the horizon. The mint julep had made my cheeks pink from two sips and I bet he was drunk, too. The booms were setting of car alarms and my friend Laura’s daughter was eating red licorice by the handful. Everyone looked so pretty in the darkened glow of red, white and blue.

All the important people were there. Laura. Boo. Charity. Charity is new. Met on 43things and have become fast friends. Together the four of us form some dream team of smart girls with special talents. Laura can speak French and makes an amazing macaroni and cheese. Boo works graphic magic and lights up a room. Charity is an emotionally smart genius who can knit you anything your heart desires. Me. I can paint and embroider dish towels and turn any problem into happy. If only we could fly. If only we could bring about world peace with well designed flyers, little sweaters and pasta dishes. I musta done something right to have found these girls in a city this big and this sometimes rainy. Apparently, I've had at least three lucky Seattle days.

I made a flag cake and baked beans and bought more food than I needed . Way more. Like four times more. I was sending leftovers home with everyone who had a spare arm to carry a zip-lock bag or covered dish. Laura and I made a trip to Costco for the occasion and while a giant jug of ketchup seemed like a good idea in the moment, it’s now turned into a lifetime supply. Same thing with graham crackers. Same thing with veggie dogs. Same thing with jell-o. In event of nuclear holocaust, I’m totally covered. Boo promised that next time I have a party she’ll follow me around and secretly put back 2/3 of everything I have in the cart.

It was my second Fourth of July here. The first one, I was a bit wide eyed and homesick. Remembering very clearly my last 4th of July in Minneapolis. Remembering riding my bike. Remembering the mosquitos. Then, from my perch on Capitol Hill, I watched the fireworks while playing with Sophie’s hair and wondering how exactly I had landed in Seattle. Figuring the reason would make itself known in time. And my only job was to be patient and recognize it when it crossed my path. That’s me still, one year later. Keeping an eye out and sipping summer drinks while sitting on the porch.