Independence day
Jul. 4th, 2010 12:57 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
desperanceOh hey, it's July 4th! How detached am I, that I really hadn't noticed? And someone told me it was coming, just a couple of days back. I've had my hands wet; that's my only excuse.
Okay, I'm not American; that doesn't mean it doesn't matter. July 4th is my half-birthday (51.5 today!), and traditionally I have a party: partly for that reason, and partly because July 1st is the anniversary of my selling my First Story Ever (33 years ago today!), and thus my own private independence celebration.
Sometimes traditions break, for simple neglect. I have not been in party mood for a while now, for some years. I did actually mean to revive it this year, but it just passed out of my mind; and this last week, of course, there has been Plumbing to distract me. When you don't have a bathroom floor, you don't tend to think about partying much.
Anyway. There's always thirty-three-and-a-third (which will mean nothing to the young, but is a Very Important Number, somewhere between 78 and 45). At the moment I think I may have several weekend workparties, in which Chaz exploits his friends by making them sort his house out and then eat his food. Brutal, no?
Meanwhile, happy 4th! You lot can do the fireworks; I shall celebrate with fresh sourdough for lunch, the world's best mac-and-cheese for dinner (for I am totally in the realm of comfort-foods here) and a great deal of peering anxiously by torchlight beneath the bathtub: sometimes looking for drips, sometimes for Mac (who has managed to persuade neither me nor himself that actually he can't wriggle through that gap between the floorboards, where the wastepipe goes...).
Okay, I'm not American; that doesn't mean it doesn't matter. July 4th is my half-birthday (51.5 today!), and traditionally I have a party: partly for that reason, and partly because July 1st is the anniversary of my selling my First Story Ever (33 years ago today!), and thus my own private independence celebration.
Sometimes traditions break, for simple neglect. I have not been in party mood for a while now, for some years. I did actually mean to revive it this year, but it just passed out of my mind; and this last week, of course, there has been Plumbing to distract me. When you don't have a bathroom floor, you don't tend to think about partying much.
Anyway. There's always thirty-three-and-a-third (which will mean nothing to the young, but is a Very Important Number, somewhere between 78 and 45). At the moment I think I may have several weekend workparties, in which Chaz exploits his friends by making them sort his house out and then eat his food. Brutal, no?
Meanwhile, happy 4th! You lot can do the fireworks; I shall celebrate with fresh sourdough for lunch, the world's best mac-and-cheese for dinner (for I am totally in the realm of comfort-foods here) and a great deal of peering anxiously by torchlight beneath the bathtub: sometimes looking for drips, sometimes for Mac (who has managed to persuade neither me nor himself that actually he can't wriggle through that gap between the floorboards, where the wastepipe goes...).