Down the British, and pass the beer!
There is nothing half as fun as a good and proper celebration of Independence Day. The beach, bikinis, bar-b-que, cold beer, patriotic outfits, lawn chairs, 95 degree heat but you're under an umbrella, homemade icecream, and a flag-waving horn-honking people-dancing-in-the-street small town parade. Oh, and family.
It has been quite a few years for me since I have been able to give one of my favorite holidays its self-indulgent due. For a couple of years I always seemed to be involved in fireworks of a different kind. But today was really the cat's meow.
Not to mention, it was a day of firsts for Jack: first time at the beach, first 4th of July Parade, first time wearing American Flag Pants, and definitely the first time in a plastic toy push-me car:
In an unusual gesture of early-morning helpfulness, I hustled out the beach to set up the canopy and chairs, and managed to build a small sandcastle on which to hoist zthe colors. It was nice to be out there alone, just early-risers walking their dogs, none of the day crowd that would surface as the sun got a few hands higher in the sky. A porpoise came cruising by a couple of dozen yards offshore (how tempted was I to yell 'shark' for the benefit of the out-of-towners?), and I got to toss the ball for Dean and watched him broach a few breakers with reckless abandon.
A full day of fun wore everyone out, but fortunately one of Pawley's Island Hammock Company's finest was there to save the day. Momma and babe are well rested, and I'm being summoned for shrimp and grits. More to follow.