My sis always spends the 4th of July weekend at her best friend from college’s family’s Connecticut beach house. This year we went along! We caught a train at Grand Central Station up to Connecticut. As gracious guests, we brought a delicious blueberry-gooseberry pie. (Tip: If you ever intend to make one, be wary that they’re both far sourer and far juicier than you’d anticipate. A dollop of ice cream does the trick with the flavor, and some wet wipes will clean up the blueberry juice you get all over your pants while toting the pie through a crowded subway.).
We spent the 3rd lounging about on the back porch of the beach house, eating delicious food and drinking sodas. Levi and I kayaked to an island upon which no mortal man has ever set foot on account of its being covered in smelly seagulls and their similarly scented droppings.
We had a front row view of the fireworks, which were set off from a boat in the bay. We also enjoyed many s’mores, and Charity oohed and ahed all the fireworks and wished America a happy birthday the entire show. Win, win, win, win. I consider the day a success.