Happy Independence Day to my fellow American Mumpers! As I posted on FB, trying times – even maddening, heartbreaking times – just mean that work is needed. I still love and appreciate my country. 
Usually I’d be feeling like July has snuck up on me, but because each month since my November weight loss surgery has been full of challenges the first half of this year seemed kind of long. I feel like I’m finally in the “downhill” part of my recovery/adjustment – even though I know there are definitely still new challenges ahead – and that the rest of this year will go by faster.
There were some local booms last night, but nothing very loud or even particularly late. *phew* It did just occur to me that I actually have no idea what the night of the 4th itself is like around here, because I’m almost always out with friends! Bailey will be on her own tonight, but I think she’ll be alright: fireworks don’t seem to bother her nearly as much as thunder.
I’m looking forward to this evening: I’ll get to my BFF’s place at around 5pm, and there will be burgers, roasted potatoes, corn on the cob, and watermelon for dinner. All foods that I love and can eat! Woo hoo! The wife even asked me what size burger she should make/the husband should grill for me. It is truly wonderful to have such good friends.
They often have family over for holidays, but tonight will be just be the four of us (their 20-year-old son – my “nephew” – got back from visiting his girlfriend in Texas yesterday). That will be nice. The over-the-top personal fireworks might even be worth it!
shoe, if I can’t see a pic here can you say where (on you) it is and try to describe it?
Here are mine (not to scale!):
The G-clef was first, when I was 23. It’s on my right ankle, and smaller than it appears above. I wasn’t living at home anymore, and my parents were long divorced. My mother liked to try to play the “cool” mom, but my father – a church musician – just kind of grunted and we never spoke of it again. Heh. I got the “big” one when I was 28; I actually had it done at a tattoo convention. It’s on my left arm. Mom again played it cool, but I think she was less thrilled about that one. I don’t even rememer when I finally got around to showing it to my father, but he had a similar grunt-then-ignore reaction.
The wolf is the one I’m in the process of having removed (2 sessions down, 6-8 more to go). I will always deeply love wolves, but the style and location just aren’t “me” anymore. I don’t regret getting it, though, and it made me happy for a long time. If laser removal technology didn’t exist, I’d be fine with keeping it. While I’m getting that one removed, I’m also having the blue background on the ankle tattoo lightened – however much it can be until the big one is gone. Before the tech works on that one, they cover the parts that I don’t want faded with a white marker because the lasers can’t remove white. It’s a weird feeling to sit there and chat with someone while they draw/color on my ankle. 
Both! Both!! 