Of Stars and Stripes
The days roll by in their summer haze and I feel their movement and my own. Sixteen years next week that we’ve been in these United States, and it only seems right to lift a glass and propose a toast to the country which celebrated its 250th birthday this past week!
We potter along, my companion and I, through the dappling light and breezy trees, while the afternoon sunbathes all around us. The summer crept up on us here while we were buried in business unawares. Before we knew where we were, we found ourselves in the middle of the first few days of July.
The weekend of the fourth was one of simple happiness. Time seemed to slow its pace and the days dwelt within their own contentment. Hard to explain, but there it is. We spent fruitful time at home in between various activities, linked by those invisible bonds which are interwoven throughout every moment of family life.
On the birthday itself I drove my daughter south for early morning training and sat working on various items while my husband taught his usual weekly class at the temple. A brief excursion with the hound became an hour long amble during which he conducted an in-depth analysis of the minutiae of the canine olfactory messaging system. I donned my chauffeur’s hat once again as I drove from the beach and back again where the waves roared joyously to the shining sun. Through it all the happiness bubbled along, speaking in a language all of its own.
Elsewhere we’ve been caught up in the atmosphere and rhythm of football with the World Cup playing out at various venues across USA, Canada and Mexico. It’s unveiled a whole other dimension of emotion and excitement, at home, throughout the neighbourhood and further afield. Our daughter is a passionate and vigorous supporter of England and the USA; at times, during matches, our living room rings so loudly with shouts of exhilaration or equal frustration that even the hound feels he has to lend his vociferous support- determined not to be left out of any sort of game whatsoever!
The highs and lows were felt with a keen intensity these past few days. We sat in delight at the end of one of England’s best performances listening to the Azteca ring with the sounds of Wonderwall. I was transported back to the September evening last year when Oasis were in town and we stood amidst an audience of 90,000 at the Rose Bowl in Pasadena while the air echoed with exactly the same song.
The sadness came as the USA were knocked out by Belgium on Monday night. As we comforted our crestfallen daughter, whose love for the country of her birth runs deep, I was reminded of my own youth and the affection I had for football as a teenager. It was full of the same highs and lows- Italia 1990 anyone- and that semi-final penalty shoot out?
Luckily for us we still have the next match against the vikings of Norway to look forward to. As both teams will be dealing with that sweltering Floridian heat which we have just recovered from- with the match being in Miami on an early Saturday evening- it will be interesting to see how the players cope.
Meanwhile summer days and summer nights swing by to a tempo that won’t be denied; there’s just so much going on. As I emerge from my writer’s daze, the piano plays intermittently and voices flow in and out while my daughter and her teacher work. I sigh happily as a canine friend, somewhat smaller than our own comes to snuggle and the dreaming minutes run by long and lazy.
