Great story!
I remember rushing to fertilize the lawn that morning before the rain started knowing hot weather was coming. We went to Bellingham that day and watched the fireworks on the bay there. It actually wasn't raining at all that evening up there but it was pretty chilly.
Bit of a long story here, but it's related and really funny.
I had probably the most miserable fourth of July out of anyone in Seattle that year. I was eight years old at the time, almost nine. My family and I set up shop by the Sri Chinmoy statue underneath the Aurora bridge, as per tradition, since it has a direct view of the fireworks without the overwhelming crowds of Gasworks Park. Unfortunately, the spot we chose was not sheltered by the bridge, as skiff westerlies left us directly exposed to the drizzly elements. Not that us true PNW'ers cared (okay maybe my Mom); we all knew the deal with what the weather could be like in early July.
But that's only where this story begins. Not half an hour after setting up shop, my stomach started to feel a bit funny. By four in the afternoon it was clear whatever lunch I ate (probably a hot dog, you are what you eat after all) was not sitting well with me. My Dad took me up to the PCC in Fremont where it all came out both ends... He was so cool about the whole thing, basically telling everyone complaining in line to f*ck off because I was having an emergency. Of course, after all this, as any parents would, mine insisted we go home and put me in bed. But God molded me with an undying determination, that perhaps borders on insanity, and I was not to be disappointed that day. After a great deal of fussing on my end, my parents caved, and let me find out on my own terms just how truly awful sitting in the drizzle for hours while sick with food poisoning could really be. And that's exactly what I did. We repeated the PCC run a few times, unfortunately to no relief. By the time the fireworks started; 30 minutes late nonetheless, due to the rain; my sickness had only gotten worse. Each firework boom shot pain up and down my spine, and into my guts, making me want to expel even more, though I had nothing to give. It was not worth it. Every drop of drizzle felt like an unending barrage of millions of little needles plunging into my skin. I did not have fun. But the memory is a hilarious one, for me at least. Thankfully I recovered overnight and was feeling like myself again by morning. In retrospect it's a miracle I didn't get seriously sick from that whole ordeal.... My parents should probably have not caved in to their eight year old child. Oh well.
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