The 3rd of July

I do not know the history of why, but the community we live in celebrates the 4th of July on the 3rd. They go all out including fireworks and related festivities. Brian and I make an executive decision that today should be a holiday. No clients seem to be calling anyway. We decide that the holiday weekend calls for a barbeque with hamburgers and chips and ice cream. Looking back, I believe we were on some invisible drug when we decided this. In order to have hamburgers, we need to make the buns. In order to have potato chips, we need to deep fry the tatos. In order to have ice cream, we need to churn the cream (okay, not by hand, but still).

But before any of this can happen, we need to get the ingredients and find more eggs. Being that it is a holiday, we decide that it might be fun to walk to Forget Me Not Farm to purchase some eggs. It just so happens that the farm is directly horizontal to us no more than a mile on Google. The only issue is that there is no road leading to it. By car, we actually have to drive about three miles to get there. We set on our venture by walking down a dirt/gravel road to the end of our street. We have to walk along the side of our neighbor’s yard. From here, it gets a bit sketchy, or more appropriately described, brambly. I am not dressed for the occasion; with sandals and a rippled skirt. My quixotic vision of walking through farmland with eggs in hand as my skirt billows in the wind is about to come to a screeching halt. The weeds, berry bushes, and native plants are just too much for me to dive in to. If you have ever been touched by stinging nettle, you may have some understanding for me. We walk back in silence, or at least not in high spirits. The eggs end up being bought at Bur Oak Farm and we even set up a credit account. We put in a $20 bill, take our two dozen eggs, mark how much we spent, and arrive at our balance. I leave with a good feeling that there are still places out there were people assume the best of one and other.

We get home and realize that we have pizza on the schedule for tonight’s dinner, so we will need to make the pizza crust. After a bit of effort, we end up with two nice crusts and fill each with a variation on pesto in which I chop up some cilantro and basil and drop it in a bowl with some crushed pine nuts, sea salt, fresh pepper, and olive oil. No cheese and a much more rustic texture than normal pesto…oh and no garlic. That was actually a mistake, had I thought of it, I would have put that in, too. We top the pesto base with some leftover chicken and sauté some mushrooms. It results in pretty good flavors, but a bit dry. I think these flat breads would have been better as calzones, but hindsight is always better.



We finish dinner in time to head out for the fireworks down at the waterfront. We decide to walk as it is not that far and traffic may be less than desirable. There are all sorts of food vendors and carts to tempt us, but I can honestly say, I really don’t crave anything. I have a pint of raspberries that I bought earlier today that are perfection. I have a few every so often while waiting for the fireworks to start. For a population of less than 2000 people, the fireworks are oddly impressive. We walk home; arriving a bit before midnight. I snatch a few more berries before heading up to bed.