Independence Day 2007

Uh-oh. The buds are starting to shrivel and fall off. A few blossoms are also withering. A little research reveals that "certain fumes in the air - methane or ethylene - may trigger bud or flower collapse." Temperature, water, and light all seem fine, so... darnit. J. just bought an air purifier, because we know that we live in "the asthma capital of New York." There are probably "certain fumes" in the air.

Speaking of beautification and greenery... we spent the afternoon at a film wrap party in Brooklyn. The owner of the rowhouse has made a lush oasis of his backyard - a gorgeous garden, with stone paths, a gazebo, and the most enormously excellent charcoal grill you've ever seen. Something out of "Little Shop of Horrors," a giant kettle drum of a grill, you could lay a whole pig on this thing. It was a nice afternoon, a rainy, green, urban afternoon. Someone brought bratwurst from Chicago, and the party - a very casual affair of about 25 people - was actually "sponsored" by a well-known liquor company, compliments of a friend of a friend. Good stuff.

Back in the Bronx, the rain had chased away many of the BBQers, but the die-hard PR families gathered underneath the Triborough Bridge. It's real garbag-y down there, and the kids were splashing around in mud puddles, but... oh well. Freedom! US of A!

At 9:20, S., the super of our building, who lives on the block with his mother and wife and teenage kids - they've lived on the block forever - rang the bell to make sure we knew the fireworks were starting. So up we went, to the roof. It's cold and wet, it's just us, S. the super, the couple upstairs, and the cute blonde-family-with-infant with Kentucky plates on their Honda. We're Korean and Puerto Rican and Chinese and Italian and Filipino and Irish, the fireworks are big as ever over the East River, there's meringue music blasting somewhere nearby.

I wonder what happens in Wayne County, PA, on the 4th of July. Maybe no meringue.

(*Click here for a later follow-up to this post.)