Cathy-on-a-Stick finally found some fireworks on the Fourth. (Gee, that's a lot of f's.)
It wasn't easy, what with Mr. Old Poot refusing to go anywhere around crowds of fireworks-loving folk. But the rockets red glare showed up on the drive home, blasting over a neighborhood lake which happened to be on our way.
Oh, there were other fireworks on the Fourth. But I didn't think you'd want to see Cathy-on-a-Stick, trying to light Mr. Old Poot's um...we'll just call it fuse and leave it at that.