Yesterday was Independence Day, and even though I'm on my last legs I'm Elizabeth's sister and I have to come through for her no matter the cost. She was not invited elsewhere, so I picked her up and we A.) played Scrabble as is our tradition (her game opener: zone - pretty good for a Down's Syndrome woman with no help), B.) goofed around in Second Life as she learned how to walk, fly, teleport, and get trapped into tight corners of buildings, C.) ate fresh, local strawberries and drank champagne, D.) watched fireworks around the lake (well, can't see the ones at the other end, but can hear them), E.) did a lot of arithmetic over and over as she has lost most of her math skills (I used to make her do a lot of adding up but I haven't been around the past couple of years). Today I'm wiped out, and may sit here and stare with glazed eyes at the monitor.

Sunday was NOT the 4th of July, however, people seem to celebrate the 4th happily on the 3rd of July, now, as they don't have to arise early the next morn. The fireworks were perhaps 10X the next day's level, and there was a highly-amplified party somewhere on the lake which drilled hours and hours and hours of the most horrendous karaoke directly into my brain with no escape. Imagine people - chiefly men who I think might've been drunk - who have a complete inability to carry a tune and NO INHIBITIONS. Add vicious amplification that carries a mile with no difficulty. NOW add the golden moldies of Neil Diamond. Death, where is thy sting?