Wandering Fourths

Last night, as we all climbed out of the car, one of our daughters said 
"Thanks, Mom and Dad for a fun Fourth." 
I kind of thought she was being sarcastic, but when she continued 
"It's always a new adventure, and never the same" 
I knew she was being sincere.
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We like fireworks.  
In our quest to fully celebrate the Fourth of July, we like to plan on a display to top off the day.  This year, the plan included a trip to Boston to hang out with ep the great, but someone (someone key to making family plans) got sick and the plan changed.
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As seems to be the pattern, we were researching options right up until the last possible minute, hoping for a more convenient venue, and expecting to satisfy everyone's craving for a patriotic display.  The closest show we could find was 44 minutes away in Lincoln, and I wasn't really feeling up to it (note: someone was SICK).  
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I could sense, however, that I was going to be the key to either making or breaking this trip, so I hopped in at the last second, and off we went.  It was like deja-vu from years past.  Making a potentially long story short, we never found the spot.  We saw one burst in the sky, and assumed it must have been the last, because we didn't see any more, so we kept driving east.  We knew the Boston fireworks were later, and decided to head to the temple on Belmont hill, thinking maybe it would be a good spot to watch the sky.  One other car pulled into the lot behind us, asking if the temple was a good spot to watch fireworks?  It really wasn't.

Though it's a peaceful hang-out.

We drove slowly down the frontage road trying to think of a good spot when we noticed fireworks along the city skyline, and decided to pull over.  Just as you descend the hill in to Boston, there is a footbridge that spans the highway, so we hopped out and watched from there.  

We are not known to be a city family, so it struck me funny that our viewing spot included peering through a chain link fence over a highway; the breeze and noise from passing traffic, instead of a blanket in a pastoral location, where the noise is the oohs and aahs we make while swatting mosquitoes.

SO... 

doesn't matter how you do it--

just that somehow it's done.

It was happy!