Since 2002 – I’ve spent the fourth of July –
in New Hampshire three times,
in the hottest apartment in Boston on the hottest night of the year, just once
on the beach in Winthrop twice,
on the Cape once,
at home in th Happy Valley twice.
Thing is – I really can’t tell you much about one fourth before that date – because really, they didn’t mean much till I was celebrating not only the birth of my nation, but the birth of my love.
Happy birthday to my husband, my best friend, my project manager, my driver, my handyman, and my sanity. The fourth meant nothing till I met you.