indigo_rose99

Yesterday at lunch my friend D (who reads the public version of this blog) told me that she had not gotten any sense of the adventures I was verbally telling her about my July 4th.  Hmmm... Perhaps I was too aware of the three readers who were there (Hi, K, L, & M!).

Let's travel back in time a few weeks ago, when I was packing.  [Conversation somewhat edited from actual events]

"Wanna blow up stuff with us?"

"Absolutely!  That looked So Fun last time!"  (I know this reads sarcastic, but it is really not.)

"There will be bugs.  Lots and lots of bugs!  Horrible, biting, itching BUGS!!  And they will want your tender flesh..." 

"So, pack long pants, socks to tuck them into, and a long-sleeved shirt."

"Well, you may catch on fire, so don't pack clothes you mind having burn holes."

"Um... OK."  *dubious look at phone*  Second thoughts that involve bugs are one thing, but horrible burning?

Packing and a plane trip passed...

It turned out that my tennis shoes were somewhat subpar, not being sturdy hike boots.  I tucked old cargo pants into the top of thick white socks (geeky, yes?), then tucked my long-sleeved t-shirt into my pants.  Ugh.  I felt completely dorky.  Then L topped it off by helping me spray my entire body with TWO kinds of bug spray: one for the clothes, one for the human flesh.  Ugh.  Hot, sticky AND smelly.

So out to a mostly mowed field about nine of us (happily similarly dressed) trooped. The rest of the large house party stayed safely near the house.  This field and house would, of course, be far out in the boondocks.  Because the large fireworks we arranged carefully in staged rows were... Um... Well, there are some laws about transporting and setting off of fireworks.  I didn't ask too many questions.  I am sure the law depends on the state and I could claim that us Texans are crazy.  Other states believe that, right?

At dusk, I helped hand out and light sparklers.  I actually did manage to successfully hand off some of the sparklers, but evidently handing them out is a salesperson's task.  I was lacking some spark.  I had to practically throw them like darts to get rid of my handful.

At dark  we trooped back to the field, put on safety glasses, put in ear plugs, and got into position.  I had an Excel spreadsheet printout with my name highlighted for easy where-am-I-supposed-to-be.  L & M lent me a headlamp to read when necessary.  Further geekiness to my dark-masked appearance. 

The fireworks were staged at one end of the field in the order we were going to fire them.  There were five wooden platforms for the actual firing.  When my name was called for a stage (turn?  round?), I would grab the appropriate firework, walk to my platform, kick off the burned-out old firework, and place my firework down.  I would find the wick and then wait for the call.  "Positions?"  Yes.  "Got fire?"  I turn on my lighter.  Yes.  "Light!"  And then I  would jog back to relative safety of the staging area, stare upward and lose my night vision to the typical (professional, to my eye) looking fireworks display.  Of course, it is probably the CLOSEST I have ever been to this kind of fireworks going off...    

It was AMAZING. 

It was even worth all of the bug bites I discovered the next day.  Evidently while I was putting bug repellent on my outerwear, I was putting bug attractor in my underwear.  *sigh*  

As I have grown older, some things have changed.  I no longer think broccoli is yucky.  When given a choice between having a fingernail pulled off with pliers or eating asparagus, I no longer choose the fingernail. 

But my fear of heights has not changed.

This July 4th, raaga123 proposed avoiding the crowds, noise and sun of downtown fireworks and spending it instead at their place.  See the movie Hancock (not as bad as I was afraid, though more one movie condensed to an hour then attached on to its sequel for another half hour), then hang out by a pool, soak in a hot tub, maybe watch a DVD in air conditioning, and finally watch the fireworks from their roof.  She explained that their roof is particularly flat and comfortable.  I got the impression she and chikuru go there often.

I imagined that some never-before-seen door or window on their second floor had access to the roof.  I imagined that climbing out would require a bit of flexibility, but otherwise would be no more difficult than looking out a window of a plane as it takes off.  I was terrible, horribly wrong.

When it came time to watch the fireworks, I was a bit confused initially when chikuru led us out the front door.  A few feet from the door was a six foot tall ladder.  He proceeded to demonstrate "getting on the roof."  First of all, let me point out that chikuru is MUCH MUCH MUCH taller than I am.  Second of all, the ladder swayed.  A LOT.  Third of all, the very top of the ladder came absolutely Nowhere Near the roof.  When he stood on top of the ladder and I was standing just outside the front door, I could see that the distance between the top of the ladder and the roof was longer than his entire inseam.

I realized instantly that the only way I was getting on the roof was to go next.  T held the ladder for me, which was really the only reason I got on it.  I managed to find myself on the roof only hyperventilating. 

chikuru helped everyone else on the roof, then gave us a demo of how it was such a lovely roof for a city view by casually walking up it.  raaga123 followed.  I plastered myself almost completely flat and tried to breath.  Inching my way to the top of the roof took quite a while.  The view was lovely.  I tried not to think about getting down.

In fact, every other person seemed to think that this was a lovely roof.  They casually walked around, and told me that the fireworks were much more visible from a standing position.  Crazy people.  

And when it came time to get down?  They all walked down to the edge.  Walked.  Seriously. 

I inched down.  Jean shorts were great for protecting my legs.  I went down after there was someone at the bottom to hold the ladder.  The trick was focusing on how they told me to move my leg to be in the correct position to catch the ladder.

I got down fine, then promptly fell apart.  I think I wigged out my hosts and my husband, who had no idea that I felt this strongly about heights.  Hey, it was a surprise to me, too.