The food was delicious and the company was outstanding and the fireworks loud and beautiful. But every year I try to count how many children could have been fed from the cost of that single thriller. Not festive of me, I know. So this year, two dogs and three young people and I stayed inside while the 'rockets blared'. And then Edna had another surprise. She had made Palomas. Egg white and sugar, whipped into a stiff mass, baked. Then strawberries and blueberries and whipped cream. What a finale.
My conscience bothered me, for I had left Edgar, my cat, at home and he was scared from all the noise from the street. I had left the TV on to make him feel less lonesome. And then I let him sleep behind my knees. We got along all night. And I am OK.
Edna and Butch, how can I thank you? You made me so happy. Thank you.