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Happiest Fourth of July Today!

For everyone the USA!

July 4 Pauline Baird Jones

I want to wish all of my US readers a most happy Fourth of July! 

I’ll be celebrating with family when you are reading this. 

The Fourth is a big deal here in Cody. Cody has the Western “things,” but they amp them up for the Fourth. 

Being back in Wyoming always sends me thoughts soaring back to Fourth of July Pasts. (Thankfully there are no ghosts involved, just happy memories.)

My dad used to let this guy set up a fireworks stand on his property just outside of town and when I was old enough, I got to work there with my big brothers. One summer I earned enough to buy myself a bicycle. 

It was a big deal to have $100 dollars to spend at my age. It might have actually been less. If memory serves, my bike cost around $70, so that’s probably what I had. And let’s face it, my memory serves me less and less these days.

Back then, fireworks had a lot more bang for your buck—and I do mean bang.

There is no question they were more dangerous. I think I remember my mom telling us not to kill ourselves, but she pretty much had to say that every day. There wasn’t much we did that was “safe.”

Our playgrounds were probably death traps. Lol, I spent most of the summer with permanently scraped elbows and knees. It was so much fun.

The summers were long, hot, and magical. Back then, we could wander at will, sometimes on bikes, others on horses, and play from sunup to sundown—which was around ten at night. 

I was one of six, so supervision varied, but was usually pretty light. As long as we showed up for meals and baths—and we got our chores done—few questions were asked. (In later years, when my mom found out what we were doing…)

Everything around us was grist for our imagination wheels. The trees, the bleachers in the park, the swings, and even the flower boxes were our castles and spaceships. 

I know how lucky I was to grow up in a small town in a time of relative innocence (for me at least. My parents had passed through two wars…). 

What a gift it was to have those scabs on my knees and elbows, deeply tanned skin, and bleached-by-the-sun hair. What a gift it was to be free to fly where ever my imagination could take me. And it went a lot of places. 

Maybe the seeds of becoming an author started way back when? 

I hope today is fun and magical for you, where ever you are!

Perilously yours,


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