4th of July in Britain

Four years ago I found myself in Boston on the 4th of July, listening to the Boston Pops and Rascall Flats, singing patriotic songs with thousands of people, watching an amazing fireworks display, and celebrating our freedom and independence from Britain.  (By the way – there is no better place to celebrate Independence Day than Boston, MA!) 

Four years later I find myself back in the clutches of Britain, the land from which we fled, refusing with all my might to raise the white flag of capitulation.  Therefore, in honour of American Independence Day, even if held captive here in Britain, myself and my American comrades celebrated our citizenship—sans fireworks, patriotic songs, parades, or family.  Under the cover of haar and on the furthest edge of the city, we lit our BBQ, opened the pasta salad bowls, and planted our 10” American flags. 

All totaled, there were probably nearly 50 people at the celebration on the beach that day, of whom about 10 were under 2 years old.

The American Beach-front Soldiers tried to make a bon fire, but I think they skipped that part of Basic Training.  They were eventually successful, and kept us women-folk and children warm with smoke fire.  Well done, soldiers. 

The celebration was good fun, until the haar rolled in in full force and put an end to our rebellious activities.  And with the haar came the wind, and the cold, and the wetness, making July 4, 2012 my most wet and cold Independence Day ever.  When I got back to my room my hair was literally dripping moisture and it hadn’t yet rained one drop. 

Here’s to you – hoping that you had a wonderful Fourth of July celebration!