Sunday Morning Coffee: God Bless America

I can’t believe today is July.  I just went through and changed the headers on my Facebook pages and my blogs, as I do at the beginning of each month. It’s always fun to find a new picture to welcome the new month

But July!  My word.  June went by in a blur.

My family from Germany has been with us for just over a week, and we’ll have them until the 5th when they head to South Carolina to celebrate Janan’s parents’ 50th anniversary. It’s been so good to have them.  Janan and Victoria have taken over my kitchen and produced some outrageously good meals.  Mexican tonight, with enchiladas, guacamole, and all the fixings.  I’m being spoiled.

July is my favorite month, next to December.  Or maybe November.  Well, I really like May, too.  Huh.  I guess I enjoy most of the year.  Maybe not January and February.  It’s pretty dreary here during those months.

Anyway, back to July.  Always have anticipated the month. The weather can be hot, but usually the first part of the month is pretty nice. Not tomorrow.  They’re talking about a  record-setting high of 99º.  Oof-dah.  But July is Independence Day, and picnics, parades, fireworks and friends.  I’m definitely a flag-waving American, in spite of all the bad knocks my country gets from both inside and outside our borders.  You still can’t beat the freedoms of this nation, nor the generosity.  But I’m not here to talk politics, of which I am heartily sick.  So tired of the accusations, outright lies, and personal attacks.  Fed up with it.

Anyway, back to July. I remember, growing up, that both July and August seemed to last forever.  Wonderful, lazy, long days of swimming, being outdoors ALL day long and into the evening firefly period of the day.  Chirping frogs and crickets, the rich smell of earth and grass, the rustling of leaves in the evening breeze, moms and dads calling their kids in, people sitting on porches and enjoying visiting with passing neighbors.

Image result for family picnic on the farm

My birthday is on the Fourth, and when we lived in Minnesota we usually went down to Fairmont or Iowa to be with our adopted family. I loved going to Iowa, to the farm, with the family that had girls our age.  We almost always played softball, had wonderful picnic food provided by the wives who all grew up cooking huge meals for their hard-working farmer husbands.  In the evening, after dark, we’d drive to a place where we could see the fireworks.  Easy to do in Iowa farm country.  Lots of flat land, with nothing to block the view.  Sometimes there would be homemade ice cream when we got back home.  A perfect day, and I enjoyed every single moment.

We live in a land of abundance, beauty, and unprecedented freedom. This is a good month to celebrate all of it.


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