the ocean

It's the Fourth of July weekend, or as the Lifetime network calls it, "Fourth of You Lie." I take all my linguistic and cultural cues from them, obviously. 

Really an all around amazing time here. Wednesday night we went to a friend's party, with a great view of all the illegal fireworks that obviously don't exist in the state of Illinois, and a lovely spread of foods I should not eat and liquors that probably no one should drink. Thursday we hosted the family for an afternoon of grilling and wishing it wasn't quite so overcast. Fortunately the skies cleared around 3 and we were able to get out the inflatable wading pool that there is really no reason two men in their forties should own. The kids loved it, and then it slowly emptied itself via a leak we could not find over the following three days. Win, win. 

Friday brought more family adventures with a trip to the Art Institute for the Georgia O'Keefe show. The kids simply insisted. They got to go to the park afterwards, but Ian and I hightailed it for home and our twin chaises on the garage roof deck. Some quality relaxation, particularly since most of our neighbors seem to have fled for the long weekend. Or for legal reasons, perhaps, I should make no assumptions.

Yesterday we had a pool party in the suburbs, and I've reached the age where that is a phrase that makes sense to me. Everyone was really friendly and the sandwiches were bomb. Yes, that's a Vanderpump Rules reference.

Today the dread of returning to work has definitely set in, but we're still trying to make the most of today. Why, I sprayed the front patio for bugs and the rear sidewalk for mold and mildew. And watered all the plants, which I assume is the reason we had a torrential downpour.

Anyway, happy birthday to America, while it lasts.