When I got the text, I cranked Spotify as loud as it would go, opened all the back windows, and went out on the deck and danced (you and me, both, Marti! And Nancy!) Kool and the Gang: CELEBRATE Good Times, C’mon.
There came neighbor J, emerging out her back door to ask if it had finally happened. YES! Which state? I don’t even know yet! She disappeared inside to tell her husband, who was in the shower.
Across the fence lines, two parents at the playground looked at their phones, yelped, and gave each other high fives. Then waved at me, understanding the backyard ruckus.
A bunch of us spilled out into the street and gathered on a front lawn two doors down. Champagne. More dancing and hooting. Queen: We are the champions!
“Oh my god!” seemed the most frequent comment. “Oh my god!”
K’s sister and her husband were due any minute, so we couldn’t cruise into Boston and see the crowds celebrating.
But that’s okay. Given the glorious weather (high 70’s and clear blue skies), we had decided to celebrate Thanksgiving on Saturday. But let me tell you, what started out as a pandemic-compensatory event turned into a moment of giving genuine thanks.
Now I am baking Irish soda bread (there’s a new season of The Great British Baking Show!). I hope it’s not stodgy.
Also rearranging books subsequent to a garbage picked perfectly intact ikea three drawer cabinet with bookcase on top. We put it in C’s room. It’s allowing me to unstuff bookcases in both boys’ rooms, which is nice.
And now I’ll bid you adieu. WordPress has reached that inevitable point in the process where it’s tired of me. Slowed down. Resistant. So forgive typos, I’m gonna just post and run!