Welcome to the Streicher annual Fourth of July backyard bash.
We keep it pretty simple around here.
Early in the morning, our flag makes it appearance on the front porch. Around noon, the kitchen is typically aflurry with various cooking and baking projects. Each Streicher daughter plans and delivers the dish of her choice, and we often work together.
The schedule also allows ample time for baseball games, dog walks, and general slacking off.
Around dinner time, the celebration shifts to the back yard.
^ This year, the party started with a fire. And that is my department.
True confession. I am a massive pyromaniac and I love building fires. And by fires, I mean roaring blazes that push the limits of paling aman and common sense.
The bigger, the better is definitely my motto, and though this effort looks puny, I heaped on all the wood available to me and lit her up all at once.
Not a bad effort for a small cooking fire.
^ While I was overseeing the conflagration, my daughters filled the table with our feast:
Hot dogs and bratwurst with buns and condiments
Baked beans
Cornbread
Potato salad
Pasta salad
And an all-American homemade apple pie.
^ Then we roasted up our tube steaks...
^ ...While Gracie guarded the table.
Just kidding. If my dog had been left alone with all that food for two seconds, she surely would have jumped up in the middle of that table, muzzle deep in one dish after the next, eating until every bite was gone or someone hauled her off the table and wrestled her into submission, whichever came first.
She's quite the enthusiastic picnicker.
^ At some time between eating our fill of dinner and tucking into the apple pie, we savored s'mores around the campfire. Nothing says freedom to me like this kind of crunchy, gooey, melty, chocolatey, lick your fingers deliciousness.
^ As the mosquitoes gathered in the shady corners and began their assault on the sweet-blooded members of the family, we decided to finish our second desserts in the house. But before we went inside, we enjoyed the festive mini -fireworks display of sparklers. Our wands of light sizzled and smoked across the backyard as we listened to the not-so-distant bangs and booms of higher caliber explosions, and decided that the combined effect was almost as fun as one of the official fireworks shows that we had opted not to attend.
* * * * *
Our Fourth Of July celebration was pretty darn basic, that's for sure. We didn't even get around to hanging red, white, and blue decorations; feasting on our traditional saltwater taffy, or arguing over croquet. I forgot to wear my tri-cornered hat, which I purchased once on a trip to Boston and wore all the way home on the plane. My then-teenaged daughters' were definitely not impressed, and still roll their eyes when I bring it out for its usual annual appearance. I'll wear it next year for sure.
But even the simplest celebration of our country's birthday fills me with awe and gratitude for our founding fathers' insight and courage. I'm forever thankful to the brave men and women who fought for future Americans' right to life, liberty and the pursuit of happiness. There's nothing simple about the sacrifices they made for you and me.
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