We have our flag out. But my family and I (Jean C. Gordon) aren't up to much else. While I'm having lunch with a writer friend, my husband is going to drop in at our son's for a swim in the pool at his condo complex. Then, maybe our son-in-law (the free-range-pig farmer) might have some pulled pork for us for sandwiches for supper.
Nothing like the way my dad, a World War II vet, celebrated. He did Memorial Day in a big way. He'd put out the flag, and we'd walk down to Main Street to watch the parade. Then, he'd have a big barbecue with our relatives from both sides of the family. More than 30 people. They'd come from the city -- Niagara Falls/Buffalo -- to Attica for a day in "the country."
Dad would grill hamburgers and hot dogs and German sausages and make Beef on Wick. People would bring all kinds of salads and deserts. I really miss the potato salads. It's my favorite and neither my husband nor the kids like it. Mom would make jello with fruit salad, and someone would always bring jello with vegetables in it, which none of us "kids" would eat.
We'd take our cousins across the street to the creek and show them how to lift flat rocks and find crayfish. Sometimes, if it was hot enough, we'd walk further down the creek to the fishing hole and "accidentally" fall in. One year when I was in my early teens, a significantly older cousin (the banker) had traded in his well-used VW beetle for a Porsche. All of us older cousins wanted a ride in it. What could be cooler than riding through town in a Porsche with an attractive older guy? Hey, no one needed to know he was my cousin. I can't remember that I ever got that ride.
As the song goes, "Those were the days, my friend." So, what are you doing today?
But she doesn't count on falling for handsome Drew Stacey, a former Wall Streeter who's getting the town church camp ready.
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