How we celebrated Independence Day

We're not doing anything special today. We're not traveling anywhere, we're not shooting off fireworks, we're not doing anything out of the ordinary. But we ARE celebrating independence in our own modest way.

We're working. We're in the middle of a production run of 300 pieces, pulling together the inventory I'll need for my annual sales trip to Portland coming up toward the end of the month. We independently created a business that provides income.

I milked Polly this morning. Got 1.25 gallons. We are independent of buying milk from the store.

We picked strawberries again yesterday evening. Got about eleven pounds. So we are independent of buying strawberries.

I watered the garden. We are growing beans, corn, potatoes, fruit, broccoli, brussels sprouts, onions, herbs, peppers, tomatoes, lettuce, spinach, carrots, melons, pumpkins, etc. It provides independence from purchasing those items.

We fed the bull and made sure the livestock had fresh water. We are entirely independent of buying beef.

We fed and watered the chickens. We are independent of buying chicken meat and eggs.

Our girls went to their job. They are learning to be independent young women.

This is what we did (or are doing) today. How is everyone else celebrating?

Celebrating Independence Day

We decided to invite a bunch of neighbors over yesterday evening to watch us light some fireworks. Altogether we had about twenty people, thought it fluctuated a bit as some would come and some would go.



Suddenly we heard a tremendous BOOM!!!!! We looked over and saw a pillar of smoke. Turns out another neighbor had shot off his cannon. (Yes, we have a neighbor with a cannon. This is Idaho, after all. And before anyone asks, yes it’s legal – for him. I won’t explain further beyond that.)


I wasn't the only one taking pictures.


I asked everyone to assemble for a group shot.


At dusk the kids lit sparklers.



Then Don started with the cones and other fancy fireworks.




The dogs were in the yard during all this, and at one point I figured I'd better check up on them. Major was fine, but I found poor Lydia huddled in the farthest corner of the yard. I put both dogs in the house. Major just sacked out in his usual spot (he's a fairly complacent old boy) but Lydia rushed into my office cubbyhole and hid under my desk.


The aftermath.