I was really sad not to be able to go home because The Fourth is a big deal at my house. My mom's side of the family comes up, and we always have a lot of fun. Some of my fondest childhood memories are of sparklers (did you know they are actually the leading cause of fireworks injuries?) and bonding with my cousin Katie inside the house with our ears plugged while the big kids shot off fireworks.
Thankfully I've grown out of the loud noise thing for the most part.
Earlier today I was scrambling because I was trying to finish my final big story for the Missourian. It's on wheat, which, as my dad said, is kind of hard to glorify. Not that I was really glorifying it, just explaining it a bit. I met this really nice farmer named Ronnie Flatt, and wanted so badly to tell his story to his "neighbors" here in Columbia. Not sure the neighbors will find it interesting, but I hope so. After a long day of writing, rewriting and rewriting again, I think I'm finally ok with it. I'm sure my editors will make it even better tomorrow.
Until then, I'm just chilling on my back patio in Columbia. I never come out here at night, because to be quite honest I'm afraid of the city at night. Which is funny, because I know a lot of city kids who are afraid of the country at night. Normally, I'd say give me those looming dark trees and night critters. But tonight, I'm content with the few trees and clumped together houses. I'm seeing a lot of really nice (I'm sure they were expensive, too!) fireworks and I didn't have to pay for them. I'm not so much a fan of the booming music a couple houses down, but I'll deal.
Seriously, it looks like individuals here spend more on fireworks than our city display does. I'm guessing they'll go way into the night. After all, I've been hearing them at night all week.
Oh yeah, did I mention there's a fireworks ban in the city of Columbia? It took me a while to figure that out. I live just outside city limits.
