This is a hard topic because hubby and I have shared so many great holidays, and all of them special. But for this blog post I go back to childhood. My dad was in the Navy and was often gone for holidays (birthdays, anniversaries, school events… You military families know what I mean.), but when he was at home for the Fourth of July, we always made a big celebration of it.
When we first moved to Virginia, we lived in Virginia Beach. For the Fourth, we would pack a picnic and head for the ocean, either at Virginia Beach proper or the beach at Dam Neck, where Dad was stationed the first two
years we were there. We spent hours sunbathing, crashing through the surf, and laughing with friends or talking. Later, burned and sleepy from the sun and fresh air, we drove home to shower and change clothes and nap a spell. But later that afternoon, after a seafood dinner at our favorite local spot (Hurd’s, which I think is gone now) we headed for Norfolk and Ocean View amusement park. Not that I ever rode it, but they had a huge wooden roller coaster. I got on lots of other rides, though, and we walked around to see all the sights and hear all the sounds. We ate cotton candy and drank Coke, and generally 
gorged ourselves on the celebration of our independence. After dark, fireworks lit the sky over the bay and we Oooed and Ahhhhed over the burst of lights. Finally, we made our way through the crowd to the car and drove home. Lucky me—I was able to sleep in the next day!
Jack and I still stay up to watch the fireworks, and we’re no less appreciative of the day and its significance than we were as kids. But memories of those childhood days splashing carefree through the ocean waves, the taste of spun sugar melting on the tongue, and the feeling of safety and love 
surrounding me from my parents as we walked through that amusement park, still burst through me like those rockets that filled the air over the water with light and sound.
Read the next blog in the blog hop by going here.
Dee
Naval Maneuvers When a woman requires an earth-shattering crush of pleasure to carry her away, she can’t do better than to call on the US Navy. Sorry, Marines!
Todd is one of my favorite characters. He was recently interviewed by Kayelle Allen on 
crochet, a little knitting, and crewel work as creative outlets. I stopped counting cross stitch when I had to use a magnifying glass to see the tiny little holes (oh, vanity!), but crocheting is still a relaxing activity.
endeavor for me. Mostly though, I crochet scarves and afghans—nothing greatly detailed that involves shaping, like sweaters or booties.
them it wouldn’t have to be anything too intricate, just hypoallergenic and washable. I think even I could manage that. And in that case, I would once again be using needlework as a creative outlet, but with greater ramifications.
nothing but the clothes on their backs. They crochet winter scarves and donate them to Native American schools in the Midwest where they live. And they do this on very limited incomes! Maybe we can all do a little more to help out those who have less? I’m going to try. Will you?
About Abbey MacMunn:
beach, school concerts, just hanging out with friends, dinner at Dairy Queen, talking about books. For eight years we drove nationwide as long-distance truckers where, even as tired and cranky as we were on occasion, we viewed sunrises and sunsets, wide open spaces, and horrific traffic jams all while holding hands (metaphorically).
Jack has always been there to remind me that that’s the ticket to a good life. He’s always been able to make me laugh, and that’s fun no matter if we’re dressed or not.
dentist’s office because that affords me guilt-free reading time. Five hours between flights? Gosh, that’s too bad. I guess I’ll just have to read. Thirty minutes between ordering my meal and receiving it? Darn it, I’ll be forced to open this book I have in my purse.
The reason this is such a welcome indulgence is this. Jack grew up with dyslexia in the dark days when dyslexia wasn’t really recognized as a problem. When we grew up, if you couldn’t read it was because you didn’t try hard enough, or you didn’t read enough (figure that one out!), or you were stupid. I despaired of his ever reading anything other than technical manuals or the IRS guidelines. Now, with text to speech programs, he can listen to books and we actually spend quiet evenings “reading” together. It’s a together time that I love!
Of course, I don’t look anything like this young lady (sadly), I don’t really enjoy beaches, and I burn if I’m out in the sun more than ten minutes. But I have the Kindle, so life is still good! Happy reading, summer, winter, fall, and spring!
met (met again, actually) the younger version of the man I married, I let Dear Diary know first. It was really a great thing to do.
Years. Like writing every day, I need to develop the habit of keeping a journal (“journal” sounds so much more mature than “diary”). Where is that Kick-Me-in-the-Butt machine I need to remind me of good habits to form?
and night, and never worried a bit. Within a year of having a cell phone and I nearly had hives when I realized I’d taken off from home one day and had forgotten my phone. I can’t remember a single time in years that I needed the stupid thing and suddenly it had become a technological device I was afraid to be without. Even now, when half of our town is within walking distance, I get antsy if I don’t have my phone.
was. Then hubby updated out phone contract and came home with iPhones. Now I have real addresses and email addresses in it, I read the news on it, I Google and read and yes, play Solitaire on it. I use the calendar and keep notes and set alarms. I have become attached. I hate it, but what’s a girl to do? The technological heart wants what the technological heart wants. Sigh.