The 4th of July

I think when I was little we had a cow born on the fourth of July, and so we named him the fourth of July. Is that weird? If you’re going to eat an animal that you name, it’s probably best to name it something very factual and not endearing, like Brown-Eared Pig or Bunny in the Big Cage. I did have a rabbit named Cheeseball Chicken. That’s not endearing, but we still didn’t eat him.

That is all beside the point. I haven’t blogged in a while, and we had the best Independence Day. We went to Grandma Haines’ house and took our grill. Seth grilled zucchini, chicken, and corn on the cob. He also made a pesto butter to go on the corn. Oh my goodness, that was good. We had some messy time outside, too, with a watermelon and some water-guns that Uncle Lance brought. That was very entertaining.

I picked up a home-made apple pie from a sweet lady we call Mrs. Farmer. It was delish and so very American. An apple pie with butter bubbling up from the cut-out crust is actually about as American as you can get. We have taught our children well.

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