That’s me on the left. For a weekend, I was a biker chick. Well, without the bike, but whatever. Minor detail, really.
Unlike most families, I don’t have a good ol’ standby tradition when it comes to the 4th of July. Sometimes I’ll travel to South Dakota to stay at my parents’, because South Dakota is one of those fun states that still trust its citizens to put off fireworks all by their little lonesome; sometime I’ll travel to Minnesota to spend time with my in-laws or my sister and her family. In Iowa, we are relegated to sparklers or a handful of other lame fireworks, or having to find a local show to watch. I can’t even sit on my porch and steal a glance at some of the local shows, either — too many trees.
This year I did something a little different. Continue reading “The Epitome of Freedom”
