2 Things I Enjoy

1. Food. It's something I think about, and talk about, and eat, quite often. I can't seem to get enough of it. That's why I want more. Specifically, I want your food. Not off your plate, just out of your recipe files. Click here to see what I'm trying to say. And then leave a comment, either here or there.

2. Parades.

7/4/2000 Watching the parade in Provo.

I come from a line (I'm not sure how long, though) of "parade people" - the kind who watch parades, mostly. In Utah, where my parents grew up and where we spent lots of time vacationing during the summers of my childhood, they put on some great parades. Plenty of action, and plenty of candy-throwing. It's always very festive. In Pennsylvania, we discovered, their parades are much more solemn events. I'll never forget the Independence Day parade in Lititz, Pa., back in 1995. Doug and I were engaged, and visiting my family. My mom's brother (a huge adventurer) and his family were also visiting. The bunch of us went to the town parade. There were people watching, and the parade was going by, but it was strangely quiet on those streets. Weird. I would have called it more of a "funeral procession" than a "parade". We did our best to lighten the mood, with some cheering and clapping and waving of the arms. And then, cousin Isaac hit the grand slam. Some city official was riding the parade in the back of a convertible with a sign with his name and title on the side of it. As he drove by and other parade-watchers stared him down, Isaac yelled out in his booming voice, "Joe Schmoe (or whatever his name really was), YOU 'DA MAN!" Oh boy, that was pretty funny! See, we know how to have a good time!

But also, we do like to be in the parade sometimes. Like once when I was a kid and my dad belonged to a club of people who liked to restore old Model-A's, and there was a St. Patrick's Day parade in our community (it's not every town that has a St. Paddy's Day parade, but this town was called Dublin), and my dad's club was invited to participate in the parade. I was the lucky kid who got to ride in the car in the parade with my dad. (It's because I'm his favorite, but don't tell my brother and sisters...) Mom and the other kids were supposed to come later and sit somewhere along the parade route to cheer and watch, but guess what--they never came. Maybe it was because they were miffed that they didn't get to ride in the parade, or maybe it was because it was POURING DOWN RAIN. Literally pouring. That day I learned the true meaning of the phrase, "soaked to the bone". My dad's car was not fully restored. It was a work in progress. And one thing that was not yet restored was the roof of the car. It was just chicken wire. Plus, the windows were either rolled down, or not quite restored, either. And that rain came in from every possible angle. We took our umbrellas and poked them through the chicken wire roof, then opened them to protect ourselves. I'm not sure it helped. But Dad and I had the most fun! We smiled big smiles when a newspaper reporter took our picture (and then didn't use it in his paper). We waved at the poor crowds of people who were die-hard parade watchers, and Dad honked the old "Arr-UUU-ga" horn. We laughed at the silly sight of ourselves. And when the parade route ended, we got ourselves some hot chocolate, and we got flowers to take home to my mom and cookies for the siblings, just to show that we forgave them for being pansies, and not wanting to sit in the rain. (just teasing! I really love you guys!) And then my mom made us strip out of our soaking wet clothes in the garage, before we came in the house, we were that wet.

Well, even though we live in a very rainy place these days, my kids have been in parades themselves, and never been rained on. Every year they're in a 4thofJuly parade in our very own neighborhood. It started by accident a few years ago, when my girls and the neighbor kids decorated their bikes, and instigated their own parade. They went around knocking on neighbors' doors and inviting them to come see their parade, and so several kind adults (plus we, the parents) stood around the block and cheered as our little kids rode their bikes around the block over and over, having races with each other to lead the parade. It was so cute, it became a tradition. Now we have an official July 4th neighborhood gathering, and bike parade. I can't wait. I think it's my favorite kind of parade there is. And that's coming from someone who enjoys a parade.