On the eve of America’s independence I pause to reflect on how blessed I am to be a part of this great country. Even in the midst of the economic turmoil of the past several months, there is no other land I would rather call my home. I become emotional when I hear the National Anthem, and I’ve been caught singing Lee Greenwood’s God Bless the USA at decimal levels only small rodents can decipher.

I’m a little patriotic.

I have more than one t-shirt with an American flag waving across the chest.

*Biting lip* One even has random rhinestones.

I display more than one flag on the Fourth of July, and I hang patriotic bunting across the entire length of my front porch.

 If you come to my Fourth of July barbeque, you will find a buffet of corn on the cob, barbequed ribs, and watermelon. You can even drown your sorrows in sweet tea, if it’s your poison. You can chat with the family while relaxing in a variety of rocking chairs around the pool, but if  idle rest is your cup of tea, I have overstuffed patio furniture with ottomans to rest your feet. If you enjoy whiling the time away playing mindless games, my DH will be glad to challenge you with his corn hole expertise. For those of you not familiar with the game, you throw beanbags at a hole in the top of a slanted box. I know this scenario has most of you scrambling for your frequent flyer miles to book a trip to Ohio, but hold on Nellie, I’m just grazing the appetizer on this virtual playground.

You might have noticed the patriotically clad pool boys on the perimeter of my blog. Believe me when I say, they have more talent than just handing out beach towels. Besides wearing a flag well; they are highly educated in the art of massage. After they rub you into a noodle stupor, they will pour you into the chair of your choice (with the understanding  that you copping a feel is expected).  When the sun goes down, they can light up the sky with a variety of fireworks for your visual and auditory entertainment. No worries about pyrotechnics being illegal in the state of Ohio, the sheriff lives down the street and he indulges in his own pyrotechnic display. If mosquitoes become a problem, the pool boys wear a tool belt fully equipped with bug spray, condoms, and drool wipes. Okay, so maybe these exact pool boys won’t be present, but my brother Randy did some push ups last week, and he carries himself well. He has mad skills at wielding a lighter. Last Fourth of July, he simultaneously ignited a bottle rocket,  a citronella candle, and a marshmallow. We ‘re thinking about entering him in the next America’s Got Talent. 

When the festivities become too exciting, you are welcome to retire indoors to watch Dateline NBC with the grandmas. They can give you the latest on Michael Jackson’s demise, and tell you anything you need to know about preserving leftovers. Don’t ask questions if you find them washing the paper plates.

If you can’t be enticed by the fantabulous agenda for the Russell Fourth of July shindig, enjoy your own celebration, and do it safely!