Independence Day weekend

[kate_schaefer]

The United States of America celebrates its declaration of independence from Great Britain on July 4th every year. Every year, I celebrate by reading the Declaration of Independence and the US Constitution, by hanging a US flag from my porch, by watching a fireworks display, and by saying, "Happy Independence Day!" particularly cheerfully to anyone who wishes me a happy fourth of July.

I used to be extremely curmudgeonly about those who call the holiday by its date rather than by its meaning. Now I'm only a wee bit curmudgeonly about it, while conceding that others may not see the subtle shading from extremity to wee bittity when it comes to my curmudgeosity.

We had a quiet holiday, insofar as a day marked by fireworks can be quiet. We spent much of Wednesday with my sister and brother-in-law, in town to visit her son and his family, had dinner with a granddaughter and some friends later on. A quiet holiday is good this year.

This has been a year of overturned plans for us. I had walking pneumonia for two months last fall, which meant that I started the year behind in everything I wanted to do. At that point, catching up is more a matter of reasonable triage than trying to do all the things. As we moved into spring, we planned some mildly ambitious travel: a trip to my 40th high school reunion combined with visiting my family, a quick jaunt to Portland for Corflu, maybe a longer trip than usual to Wiscon, some time with the granddaughter going to college in Minnesota.

After a Microsoft re-org, Glenn was suddenly and happily retired. He'd intended to retire next year, but after some hasty calculations, we were pretty sure that this year would work just fine. The plan for that longer trip than usual was extended to a full month, with a week in northern Wisconsin with klages as a major feature. As a bonus, I'd get some more time with my family. And another bonus: Glenn's older daughter and her partner would travel with us for the cross-country drive to Wiscon. We've traveled with them before, and they're perfect company for a road trip.

The 40th reunion came and went. I had a lovely time. There were 28 (29, but the 29th died before graduation) of us in my graduating class, and 15 made it to the reunion. In a class that small, even the girls I couldn't stand were girls I knew well, and now they're all interesting, thoughtful women. I hope they think the same of me; I was certainly an arrogant, snotty youngster, always a bit defensive because I was a scholarship girl among the rich kids. I hope I'm less arrogant and snotty now. They're no less rich now, but I can see the shadings and variations that weren't really visible to me then, the way that some families made enormous sacrifices to send their daughters to a good school while others took private education for granted. I still have some mental unpacking to do from that weekend, especially from some intense conversations with my friend Kathy, who I hadn't seen since the year we graduated.

Corflu was great fun, too, a week after the reunion, with some bonus visits with British fans and the slowly-recuperating Stu Shiffman. I volunteered to publish a special one-shot fanzine just for Stu and gathered terrific material for it. We went to the symphony, we started to pack for the road trip, and I came down with bronchitis which kept me coughing and exhausted for almost two months.

Cancel the road trip. Cancel the travel with the daughter and partner, the vacation with the granddaughter, the bonus visit to the family, the trip to northern Wisconsin. Cancel routine exercise. Cancel the planned allergy treatment -- can't have the shot when I'm sick.

Oh, whinge, whinge, whinge. At least I didn't actually get pneumonia this time, and I didn't have the bonus case of shingles that came after last year's pneumonia. I did get to spend time with my sister and brother-in-law while they were out this way visiting my nephew and his family, so some fun things are still going on. The Clarion West workshop and concomitant readings, parties, and Write-a-thon are moving along nicely, too.

And then, just after I reached the point of no longer sounding quite so pathetic, Glenn went out for a quick bike ride and destroyed his helmet. His head's just fine, thanks, mostly, though the concussion cost him a few hours of short-term memory. The road rash is almost all healed now, and the rib and collarbone should heal in another month.

We look forward to some dull times, soon. At that point, I should be able to pub my ish and hand it over to Stu.

Comments

[wild-irises.livejournal.com]

I seriously hope Glenn is okay! And I am glad that you are more okay than you have been.

[kate-schaefer.livejournal.com]

Thanks, Deb. We think he's okay, but there are a bunch of follow-up visits to make sure his head is really all right. Maybe I should have just called this post, "Always wear your helmet when you ride a bike," or, "How do you know when it's time to throw out your bike helmet? When it hits the pavement and cracks, but your head stays intact."

I was so very glad that Jane was available to go to the emergency room with me.