Holy f*cking shit.
I had forgotten, and was harshly reminded last night, what the first week of July means: the war zone.
That’s right, it’s no longer for the 4th only, now fireworks are going off every night til midnight, and what used to be professional grade are now legal to anyone, and they’re shooting right next door, and anywhere else in the neighborhood. Makes for a pleasant evening stroll, as well as a good night’s sleep for everyone.
I’m pretty sure, like everything else these days, this is being done purposely to terrorize people (and animals).
Well this is one thing I don’t have to suffer. I found a little campsite in the middle of nowhere, and I’m looking forward to making an impromptu adventure out of it.
We’re happy now.