For at least 3 weeks before the July 4th holiday, we heard from unrestrainable mavericks who could not bear to wait for the holiday to exhibit their blasting prowess. From our perch on a hill-top near Sequoia Park, we were subjected to echoing pops and bangs from every direction, beginning on the hour at 9:00, then repeating at 10:00 and 11:00. Not just on weekends, but nearly every evening. Weekend evenings, especially on Saturday, noisy bursts began well before dark. Hard core blasters continued on through Sunday evenings.
You’d think Ellie would get used to this, but, NO! At first blast, her eyes dilated, her tongue hung out and she began to pant. I feared the 10 year old critter would have some kind of attack. I couldn’t even think of going to bed until she calmed down – almost an hour after the last blast.
Last night, the 5th, there were only a few blasts at 10:00 and one or two later. (We remain hopeful they finally have blown up their supplies.) I looked quickly at Ellie after each pop, but she continued to sleep. Maybe from exhaustion. Or perhaps she is going deaf. Who knows? I am hopeful we finally can rest undisturbed. At least until the New Year approaches.
Needless to say, my least favorite holidays are the 4th of July and New Year’s Eve when this rascally rural ritual is repeated. Least favorite as far as noise goes, that is. I am, and always will be, patriotic. Happy Fourth! I can hardly wait until New Year’s Eve. Not.