You have to overlook the quality of the photos. Imagine me ducking between groups of laughing, talking people, carrying platters of German and Spanish sausage to the table, the inevitable hamburgers and our specialty, baby back ribs that had been dry rubbed with an assortment of spices then slow cooked for 2 hours in a 300degree oven. Just a few turns over hot coals and they are ready to eat. There were bowls of German potato salad, my black bean and rice salad, grilled corn, its husks all black and steamy ready to be pulled off and the tender corn underneath waiting to be slathered with butter, S&P and eaten with many groans of " This is the best corn I've had this summer".
Needless to say, keeping hordes of hungry people away from the table while I took a few carefully posed photos was a no go. I got the ribs, I got the corn and then I got out of the way.
After hours of messy eating we cleaned ourselves and the table and walked up the hill to watch the fireworks. Many complained of feeling a little "full" and the short walk there and back was a struggle.
But once we had returned and the bowls of watermelon, plates of brownies and ice cream, and the piece de resistance, the blueberry pie were placed on the table, the complaints were forgotten. Appetites mysteriously returned.
We sat back down and ate some more and told tall tales surrounded by panting dogs, loud neighborhood fireworks and watched over by the first moon flower of the summer.
If I ever don't have a party again on the 4th, I'll do it with the same people, in our yard, with 2 grills going and labs begging, glasses of basil lemonade and bites of juicy watermelon.
