road trip: post #2

So here I am, still in my hometown, on the 4th of July.  I don’t know if this is true other places as well, but it’s always been a reunion kind of holiday hereabouts.  Maybe it’s the annual pick-up soccer tournament. I doubt it’s the spectacular fireworks pulling people in (a small-village budget does not an explosive extravaganza provide), but whatever it is, people from far away and long ago invariably show up.

So I’m disappointed, because although we did get the chance to meet up with a small group of high school alumni last night, the parade and fireworks have now been canceled due to anticipation of precipitation.  Which may or may not come to pass.

Well, they haven’t actually been canceled, but for our intents and purposes they have — they were rescheduled for Sunday, and we won’t be here.   And not only was I looking forward to the chance to see and visit with old schoolmates, I’d gotten quite attached to the notion of sitting out on the hill at Gaunt Park watching fireworks, re-experiencing that memory of childhood with my girls.  Megan had gotten quite attached to the notion of decorating her bike and riding it in the parade, too, so we are a long-faced bunch today, eyeing the gray but dry sky.

I spent many, many hours of my childhood at Gaunt Park.   Named after Wheeling Gaunt, a former slave who came to Yellow Springs in the 1860s and owned the land at the time of his death, the park is many things to this town — site of baseball/softball diamonds, soccer fields, municipal pool, and both water towers, not to mention the aforementioned hill, best known for fireworks viewing and snowtime fun.

To my eyes today it’s hardly anything of a hill, but it IS the only place in town with any elevation at all to speak of and it made for fine sledding.  My memory rings faintly with the fact that it was a landfill many decades ago; Kira took one look at it when we were there earlier this week picking mulberries and promptly christened it “Trapezoid Hill,” and though I’d never taken note of it before, she’s absolutely right and it will probably live forevermore in our family lexicon as such.

So we’re trying to make the best of the last day of our road trip with, as Megan said, “Nothing at all to look forward to.”  Kira and her daddy are napping, and Megan has been appeased with Aunt Darla’s ginormous craft bag.

Me, I’m just pouting.