Fireworks! We had our first ever experience of the Fourth of July in a city close to a source of readily available fireworks (in this case, Washington state), and it was pretty amazing. A neighbor of ours pointed out that this was a strange way to celebrate during a war, but it seemed kind of apt to me. Apparently, every Fourth here is this demented orgy of fireworks - SERIOUS fireworks, like you'd expect to see in a real, official, city-run fireworks display - being set off in the streets every few blocks or so, for hours. It felt like we were under siege, in a non-deathy kind of way, with continual flashing explosions all around us. Cook said it gave him a tiny glimpse of what it would be like to try to get your child to sleep in Baghdad. I know that the comparison is cringe-making, because the only casualties of our evening under fire are a handful of idiots blowing up their hands. But it was so disruptive and alarming and stressful even in the non-deathy version, that it gave us an opportunity to imagine a little more vividly what it might be like to try to cling to some semblance of normality when you're actually living in a war. So it was, in a way, an appropriate way to celebrate the Fourth of July.
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