Happy 4th of July, dear readers, wherever you are and whatever you think about taxation without representation! (Obviously, having spent four of the last six Independence Day holidays in England, I'm somewhat conflicted. Have you seen the Stephen Merchant advert for Newkie Brown that's been going around? He has some valid points...) I do wish Jon could be here in DC to celebrate with me, but I'm making the most of the long weekend regardless.
I'm spending most of today prepping for the party I'll be throwing tomorrow, but in later in the afternoon I'll head to a friend's house for his annual shindig. Two years ago, the last time I was in DC for the 4th, I stopped by that party on my way home from a day in Philadelphia visiting Hannah to find everyone singing the national anthem at the top of their lungs from the roof. I'm not sure my patriotism trumps my fear of heights, but it'll be fun!
Tomorrow is my party; my parents are out of town so I'm borrowing their porch and garden in the suburbs for an afternoon of bringing friends together. (Turns out the only thing that Charlie hates more than the vacuum is the lawnmower, so I hope everyone ignores the fact that only half the grass has been cut.) As usual, I've gone totally overboard on the menu, and I'd like to give Beth's boyfriend Steve a public shout-out of appreciation for agreeing to man the grill for me because I am bad at it. I'm jumping on the bandwagon with my first-ever flag cake - is it too much to intersperse white candles with the blueberries because, after all, this is America's birthday?
I'm not the only one getting into to spirit of things, though, even if I'm not belting from heights: some new friends, an English couple who recently moved to DC, have invited a bunch of people for a picnic in the park on Sunday afternoon to finish up the long weekend.
Everything's pretty casual, so I think I'll be in some variation on the below outfits over the next few days. The one constant will be bug spray - well, that and splashes of red, white, and blue!