Remembering Memorial Day

My friends, remember with me if you will Memorial Day, the day on which we are not to forget to enjoy grilled meats and casual lawn sports, for that day has just concluded. I tell you now of my exploits on that day, which began not long after I awoke this morning. There then came to me the surprising news that Memorial Day had come upon us, which I had forgotten to remember. Furthermore, I learned that I had plans for memorable revelry to be completed by day's end. This was fine, for I find such excellent revelry to be a fulfilling practice.

For my first adventure, I took a lonely path up through the woods to reach my destination, which is the home of my grandparents. There was assembled there a minuscule gathering. After some brief sitting indoors, we migrated to the gazebo in the garden by the pond. My uncle wished for some leisurely fishing, and I eventually joined him. First, however, I felt it necessary to watch the wasps living on the underside of the gazebo's roof. That was mildly interesting, but then the dog appeared, and I associated with her as one usually associates with a friendly dog. It did not take long for discussion to begin about the layer of grime that is invariably felt upon touching her, for she is an outside dog. Thus all of us in the gazebo vowed to wash our hands upon returning indoors. It was only after this that I was encouraged to attempt to fish, and fish I did. Not only did I land the largest catch, but I also caught the most fish and the most non-fish, as well. This all amounted to a two-inch long bluegill (which, like all pond fish, was returned to its home), a stick, a tree, and myself. That last point is the most interesting, for as I was placing the fishing pole back in its proper place, the dirty, wet hook decided to pierce my hand, from which I immediately removed it. With my knowledge of hygiene and medicine, I proceeded indoors, I caused the wound to bleed the and washed it with soap, alcohol, more soap, and some other cleansing implement. As it turned out, though, I have had deeper paper cuts, so the injury aroused no stir beyond that. The remainder of the afternoon was spent socializing and noshing (my grandmother's word) on cheese, crackers, and pomegranate juice until it came time to depart.

My next stop was the home of my other grandparents, where we dined upon grilled meats and the other delights that my grandmother had prepared. Having eaten, we proceeded outdoors to light a fire and sit around it, which we did until darkness had begun to take hold on the sky. We socialized there about the insane family down the street, hypothetical gladiatorial matches (well, my brother and I did), burning of the flesh, life, the universe, and everything. There was also the maintenance of the fire and the roasting of marshmallows (puft sugar, one might better call them) thereupon, naturally. At one point, I sought out a log to discover a beetle of some living therein. It scurried off upon being discovered, but it left an interesting imprint of its shape where it had lived. Also, for a time my grandfather and my brother played horseshoes, which I can only suppose was a well of delight. I declined to join them, instead preferring the company of the fire. Regardless, we did not go without that essential Memorial Day endeavor.

Having remembered the grilling of meats and the casual lawn sport, I express my satisfaction with this Memorial Day. It shall be remembered fondly.