Happy 4th of July

For some strange reason, when I am overseas, it happens to be over the great American holiday, The 4th of July. One year I was in Russia celebrating our independence by going to a local Baskin Robbins for an ice cream. The year I was in Swaziland, they put on a fire works extravaganza for us, and this year I am in Israel and have no idea what the day will hold.

But my favorite fourth of July’s are the ones I remember from my childhood. This is probably what makes the 4th of July my favorite holiday. Every year we would rent a camping spot on the beach on Camp Pendleton and have a front row slot for camping.



The fourth of July was always the highlight of our two week camping extravaganza. I remember waking up in the morning to people spreading out all around the sand. Dad’s and husbands coming early in the morning to pick out the perfect spot and hauling all of their coolers and tents to set up for the long day ahead. While everyone hurried down, my family sat and enjoyed the view of the ocean.

By ten in the morning the beach was fully packed and the day was in full swing. My family would be down at the water all day. If you didn’t know where we were sitting, because you were lost in the crazy crowds, all you had to do was look for the kite flying high my Aunt Debbie always sets up as compass to our seats.



The day would be filled with building sand castles, boogie boarding, playing catch, and soaking in the sun with all of the other families who have gather here to celebrate the day. My mom would make sure I was lathered up in sun screen though I always managed to get burnt to a crisp. And my fingers would be covered in orange from stuffing cheetos in my face while drinking a Pepsi that no doubt was filled with bits of sand.



At night my dad would grill up some all American Hamburgers and Hot Dogs asking about 15 times whether or not you wanted cheese on your burger. While the food was cooking my cousins and I ran off playing tag or playing cops and robbers on our bikes.



The special treat of the evening would be the glow sticks given to us to crack, shake, and then scamper off to glow into the night.



My brother and I would fight over who got to help build the fire. Because he is stronger, he usually won; otherwise I would have ended up being the wood for the fire and doused in kerosene and set ablaze. Once the fire was started we would gather in our chairs sit around the fire and wait for the fire works to begin. To help pass the time that seemed to be endless till the fireworks commenced we pulled out the wire hangers, chocolate, graham crackers, and marshmallows and indulged in S’mores.



Once the fire works began we would “ew and ah” with the rest of the crowds and applaud at the amazing display, shot off from the nearby bay. Once the show was over, the drunken crazy crowds would try to make their way back to the vehicles and homes while waiting in the long traffic lines to get off the base. My family would watch and laugh the scene unfold while we had the freedom to sit, relax, and enjoy the rest of the night.



The morning after the fourth of July the beach is a complete mess. (so please clean up after yourself today) My brother who always sleeps in, would make this the one day a year he would wake up early. He would go out and try to collect as many empty cans as possibly before the dump truck collected them. No, he was not worried about saving our planet and green conscious at a very young age; he was always looking for ways to make money and wanted to collect all the cans to help boost up his piggy bank account.



I love the fourth of July for all the fun family memories it holds. This year after not being in the U.S. for such a long time I can honestly say I have never had so much pride for my country and family. I love them both dearly and will be celebrating them here with me today.

HAPPY FOURTH OF JULY!!!