Thankfully riding the rails and buses this Fourth of July

I spent the evening of the fourth of July listening to my neighbors set a chunk of their disposable income afire in the form of hours-long stashes of fireworks. Our house shook with what seem to my untrained - but not unscathed - ears to be military-grade explosive devices secured on the black market.  my mind turns inevitably to the topic of freedom. And earplugs. But mainly freedom.



We are celebrating the July 4, 1776 finalizing of the text of the Declaration of Independence, which created the United States. Even though people like me (Black, female, non-land-owning) were not technically covered by the benefits until the 14th amendment, I'm still grateful that people kept pushing to get it right.

I've written before about the woman I met in Portugal who renewed my patriotic ferver with her own reverence for American history. This year I took a moment to give thanks for the many freedoms I enjoy.

• Freedom of marriage choice (no forced marriages). Although my parents may have taken issue with some of the guys I dated when I moved back home after college, they were always supportive of me and gave their full blessing when my husband asked them about marrying me.

• Freedom of travel, (even without my father or husband, as some women in Saudi Arabia must do) which we did all weekend, traveling by safe, convenient, affordable public bus, then train to Portland, Oregon to meet up with J. 

 Bus ride to birthday party, followed by light rail ride to train.
 
Train ride to Portland. Nook Color keeping the kids entertained on the three and a half hour ride after the snacks and scenery grew old.

• Freedom of education. Yes, the public schools in our area are struggling and/or failing thousands of kids each year. But having been born in rural Louisiana to a young mom in a farming family and who was among the first black students (along with her siblings and cousin) to integrate her local high school, I know things could always be worse. Despite the barriers during the middle part of the last century, education was highly valued in our family.  I have two aunts who are teachers and most of my aunts and uncles attended or graduated from college. Education proved to be the ticket out of that small, limiting, rural town for them, and eventually me. 

So when I see pictures like the one above of Ava practicing her name in a fogged up bathroom mirror, I can't help but think of a time when she or I could have been killed for this simple, revolutionary act: learning.

• Freedom to nurse my almost-too-big-to-nurse kid discretely in public without harrassment. Unlike the Chicago mom who was recently harrassed by a bus driver (!) for nursing her two week old INFANT on a city bus (Breastfeeding mom harassed on city bus), we took transit all over on this holiday weekend (bus to preschooler birthday party, bus to light rail, light rail to Amtrak to Portland, Oregon) and with the early start and long, busy day, there were several nursing pit stops for Dylan. Not once was I hassled or even given more than a passing glance. No doubt in part because I did it discreetly and most folks probably thought I was just holding a sleepy toddler in the crook of my arm with a burp cloth draped over my shoulder. Nothing to see here. Just move along.

Freedom to pamper myself and my girly with a mommy-daughter pedicure.

All of these were my simple reminders of how amazing this country usually is, especially in comparison to places that are not as freedom-loving. The day after the Fourth, I overheard a co-worker remark: "I've always wanted to go to the naturalization ceremony and I finally did this year. It was so affirming! 525 people from 81 countries taking the oath of citizenship."

"I hereby declare, on oath, that I absolutely and entirely renounce and abjure all allegiance and fidelity to any foreign prince, potentate, state or sovereignty, of whom or which I have heretofore been a subject or citizen; that I will support and defend the Constitution and laws of the United States of America against all enemies, foreign and domestic; that I will bear true faith and allegiance to the same; that I will bear arms on behalf of the United States when required by the law; that I will perform noncombatant service in the armed forces of the United States when required by the law; that I will perform work of national importance under civilian direction when required by the law; and that I take this obligation freely without any mental reservation or purpose of evasion; so help me God."

Affirming indeed, and a perfect counter to the anti-immigration rhetoric that abounds in politics, talk radio, and elsewhere. Sure there are still plenty of narrow-minded, short-sighted, divisive activities across this country, like Georgia's anti-immigration law and health disparities based on socio-economic status. But take it from those 525 people: we've got a pretty good thing going here. Let's keep working on getting right. Happy Fourth of July.

Wooden boat festival!

We headed down to Lake Union for the Wooden Boat Festival to meet up with some parents from our PEPS group and their kids.

Jason and Ava built a little boat using materials the festival provided and we helped Ava push model sail boats around a small pond/water enclosure alongside the dock.

Final product ready to set sail for the 4th of July holiday

We also got a close-up view of all the cool watercraft, although we skipped the big boat tours because the kids were reaching their limit.

The food booths looked pretty tasty but we'll have to try them next year. All in all, lovely family outing and finally, some sun.

Sent from my Nokia phone

4th of July family fun

The 4th wasn't that great in terms of weather, but at least it didn't rain as it has in past years and we did get to hang out with family for the day.

Ava has seven first cousins, including the little girl below who, as the only girl amongst five brothers, felt a kinship the minute Ava arrived. She greets me at family gatherings not with "hi, Auntie Natasha" but "Where's Ava?!" It probably helps that Ava's petite build creates more than a passing resemblance to a little doll, as many people have pointed out. So her cousin, who is almost three and definitely into doll-carrying, is totally digging Ava's portability.

Here's another cousin, who although three weeks younger, has outweighed her almost since birth. We all joke that we need a weight belt before we hoist him onto our hip. He is a happy, rotund little laid back baby who's content to go with the flow around him. I suspect he and Ava will be two peas in a pod - make that three, including his sister - once they're both up and walking. It was nice to kick back for some home cooked food and catching up with family after a barbecue disaster that morning at our place. J. inherited his grandmother's barbecue grill and has been trying to perfect her rib recipe, which of course was not written down, but handed down verbally to his mom, then on to J.

He's been slowly adding his own modern kick and flavor to the mix, carefully crafting his own seasoning rub, and even making a sauce from scratch with diced onions, honey and other mix-ins. In the process, he leaves a barbecue sauce speckled mess in the kitchen every summer. But the ends have always justified the means as he enlists me to taste test each effort. His attempts were good from the start, but each iteration improves upon the last. Still, my stock response is, "Oh that's terrible. Simply awful. You don't want to even bother tasting this. Just put it in the fridge and I'll get rid of it for you. Trust me." Which of course means yet another tasty batch.

On the 4th, after a night and morning spent mixing and marinating, pre-cooking and grilling, basting, tending and basically manipulating several slabs of ribs in a manner that would cost you at least $60 an hour at spa, J. prepared to close the grill lid for the last cooking segment.

From another room, I heard J.'s muffled, "Aaghh!" then a loud thump. Fearing the worst or at least a future filled with wheelchair ramps and head sticks, I sprinted to the front of the house expecting to see J. lying in a crumpled heap, seriously injured, or possibly paralyzed, by some unseen menace.

Instead, and happily, I found him staring down in utter disgust and anger at the now dented grill splayed out on the brick pavers and bark spilling its succulent rib contents and still-glowing coals out into the grill lid.

Apparently, as J. released the lid, suddenly, the two wheels on the grill's back legs, which have never rolled when we actually need them to, rolled right off of our back deck to the ground below. He was beside himself with frustration over the now wasted hours and more importantly, wasted food.

Being a veteran of many a campfire mishap, I suggested trying to salvage any slabs in the wreckage that might have escaped the grill's charcoal disgorgement. After cleanup at the scene and an attempt at rinsing the least impacted slabs, one crunchy, grit-ridden bite sealed the deal: the ribs were destined for the trash.

Well, almost. I told my mom the sad tale and she claimed them for her dog, who received quite a stash of lip smacking treats. We didn't even consider giving them to our dog Isis. Although she can lick her own rear with nary a repercussion, eating non-vegetable people food causes her to have violent colonic issues that I end up being responsible for cleaning up. So no, you may not give my dog a treat off your plate, but thanks for asking.

So after that sad morning saga, it was lovely to focus instead on our blessings and kick back the rest of the day with some of our peeps to enjoy each other and the freedom for which so many before us have sacrificed. Happy birthday America!