Oh, I had the best Fourth of July. It was the first I’ve ever spent by myself — because my birthday is the next day, I usually try to make a party out of seeing the fireworks, and there is always something Going On.
But last night I had worked all day, and working fire dispatch on fourth of July is a chore. I worked a couple of several-alarm vegetation fires that just about killed me (new computer system, we’re all struggling). So by the time I got home, I was too tired to trek into the City where Lala had a show, and everyone seemed to be doing something far away, and I didn’t want to drive, so I settled on the couch and ate crab cakes that I found in the freezer, made a Tom Collins, and watched Sex and the City reruns. It was awesome, actually. Just what I needed to relax.
Then the booms started. And got bigger. I live in an area of East Oakland where, although even sparklers are illegal, people still have fireworks as big as any in an officially sanctioned city show, you know, the HUGE ones, and as night dropped, and the sky started to light up, I got more and more anxious to see fireworks.
But I still didn’t really want to go anywhere. So I went up the hill that I can see from the living room window. I sat on on the side of the road, and oh my god, it was amazing. It was clear last night, the only Fourth I can ever remember being like that in the Bay Area, EVER, and I could see the San Mateo Bridge, most of Oakland, all of Alameda, right over the Bay to San Francisco, and all the way around to Mount Tam.
The Oakland floor below me was SO GORGEOUS. Wherever I turned my eyes, at least three or four huge fireworks were exploding in my line of sight, and scores more flashed to the left and right, filling my peripheral vision. It sounded like what I imagine war would sound like, the hills echoing and filling with the booms and blasts. It was devastatingly thrilling, but only a few people were pulled over on the hill with me. One young family held up their baby and pointed, "Que bonita! Mira! Mira!" Then they left, and an older woman pulled up with her granddaughter and we all stood marvelling at this, the best show in the Bay Area. It was warm, and clear, and bright, and LOUD, and wonderful.
Know what else is wonderful?
My cat. Digit is getting better and better. I found him yesterday with his e-collar off. Yes, he does have thumbs, but that’s ridiculous. We were lucky and he hadn’t yet ripped out his drain or any stitches. While I was struggling to get it back on him, he got pissy and started growling and hissing. He struck out at me with his many claws a few times, and I growled and snapped back. I was mightily irritated until I realized that HE’S BACK! My jerkface cat is just that again, a jerkface. And if he’s acting like an ass and scratching me, he’s feeling SO MUCH BETTER. Yay! Hooray for my little jerkface! (Who purrs often and cuddles and belies his jerkiness, but we won’t tell.)
Big Paws Frankenbutt
Scritch! He has two eyes! Ole Winky no longer.
And Erika did this for me:
Sweater drawing will be held on Saturday! I am using the time between then and now to put all you darlings into the database that Fund-Raising-Fool Claudia sent me. I don’t know what I’d do without it….. So stay tuned!