tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5444599588527265649.post5705099590190278538..comments2023-11-05T01:33:56.300-08:00Comments on The Well Fed Muse: Writing Prompt: Summer TraditionWriting Padhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08457445478510415827noreply@blogger.comBlogger5125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5444599588527265649.post-58755018734705172352013-07-15T12:42:14.719-07:002013-07-15T12:42:14.719-07:00My dad Vinnie loved the Fourth of July. I think it...My dad Vinnie loved the Fourth of July. I think it’s because he was a sergeant in the US Army, which made him a very patriotic man. He certainly loved his country. Vinnie retired at 62, so he basically stayed home and made my teenager life at home a delight. Vinnie really did spoil me. He liked to do all the shopping, cooking and cleaning. For the Fourth of July, we would always barbeque my favorite kielbasa, hamburgers and corn on the cob. Vinnie would make his famous mayo/white vinegar potato salad with finely chopped pieces of celery and onion-Yummy. He’d enjoy sunning himself in our 25 x 25 feet city fenced backyard. Vinnie put fresh cut cucumber slices on his eyes. He said this keeps your eyes from getting sunburn red and puffy. Now, how’s that for a beauty tip from Dad? And trust me, it did work.<br /><br />At night the local Queens streets became a spectacular homegrown fireworks show. Everyone bought fireworks even though they were illegal in New York. Vinnie would start at dusk asking me to help him bring his phonograph outside from the living room to the front stoop. It was a wood veneer box with the record player inside. It actually looked like a bureau with a secret compartment. Then I’d get the green extension cord. Vinnie’s WWII American flag would be waving right outside our front door to commemorate the day. I felt honored to help.<br /><br />He picked his favorite patriotic marching song, Stars and Stripes Forever! by John Philip Sousa. It’s pretty well known song. When the fireworks started, Vinnie blasted this record so loud on our front stoop--the whole neighborhood could hear it blocks away. With crashing cymbals, bombastic brass and chirping piccolos, it got our neighbors on their feet, clapping and cheering. God bless America! Made us all very proud to be an American and he made our special holiday so much fun; I loved that about my Dad Vinnie. He made us all feel our American freedom! <br />Anonymoushttps://www.blogger.com/profile/05064401502645871756noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5444599588527265649.post-51112813192020322252013-07-15T12:38:53.113-07:002013-07-15T12:38:53.113-07:00This comment has been removed by the author.Anonymoushttps://www.blogger.com/profile/05064401502645871756noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5444599588527265649.post-30940721013225249992013-07-14T23:51:52.751-07:002013-07-14T23:51:52.751-07:00Sorry, I had formatting problems the first time I ...Sorry, I had formatting problems the first time I did it. Also, I forgot to mention that this is fictional, from the perspective of my character for the prompt.Lorindahttps://www.blogger.com/profile/13912165375385404001noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5444599588527265649.post-40771703088430162352013-07-14T23:47:43.661-07:002013-07-14T23:47:43.661-07:00Maria and I were sitting on the patio when Grandma...Maria and I were sitting on the patio when Grandma came outside carrying a plate heaped with watermelon slices.<br /> “Hungry?” she said.<br />Maria and I looked up gratefully, our hands already reaching for the rose-colored fruit, each triangle dripping with juice and crusted with the vulnerable white and bright green of the rind. I bit into mine zealously, my hands and wrists instantly wet and sticky. <br /> “You girls think you can spit a watermelon seed as far as I can?” Grandma said, her mouth still full around the juicy pulp. Then, she puckered her lips and a black seed shot out of her mouth and into the sparse grass of the backyard. <br /> “I wanna try,” Maria said. She’d been delicately spitting them into her palm, but now, she drew her lips together and puffed out her cheeks, as if to blow a great gust of wind from her pre-teen lungs. A black seed dribbled half-heartedly down her chin, and I burst into laughter as Maria made a frustrated face and then laughed, too. I held a seed in my mouth, determined to do better than she had. But as I sucked in my breath, the seed flew backward against the roof of my mouth and slid down my throat, leaving me choking and spitting while Maria and Grandma burst into laughter.<br />Lorindahttps://www.blogger.com/profile/13912165375385404001noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5444599588527265649.post-17780033931244787072013-07-14T23:46:26.351-07:002013-07-14T23:46:26.351-07:00This comment has been removed by the author.Lorindahttps://www.blogger.com/profile/13912165375385404001noreply@blogger.com