So…Independence Day is catching on.
The US is celebrating with the traditional cookouts and removal of body parts through poor fireworks choices.
![When good fireworks go bad... [image credit: Buzzfeed ] https://www.buzzfeed.com/daves4/dumbest-things-you-can-do-with-fireworks](https://barbtaub.files.wordpress.com/2016/07/anigif_enhanced-buzz-11578-1372861957-19.gif?w=529)
When good fireworks go bad… [image credit: Buzzfeed ]
The post-Brexit UK is celebrating/mourning what the (newly former) head of UKIP Nigel Farage is calling their Independence Day—and wants to see observed as an official annual holiday. No, I totally did not make that up.
!["June 23 will go down in history as our independence day." Nigel Farage [Image credit: cantbaragethefarage.com] http://cantbarragethefarage.tumblr.com/post/146314344208](https://barbtaub.files.wordpress.com/2016/07/tumblr_o96oyup6gy1vuq2yjo1_400.gif?w=529)
“June 23 will go down in history as our independence day.” Nigel Farage [Image credit: cantbaragethefarage.com]
![Okay, this is actually from the first movie. But how much more Fourth of July can you get than an exploding White House? Even Nigel Farage was riffing this one... (Plus...Will Smith. Oh yeah.) [image credit: yahoo movies] https://www.yahoo.com/movies/roland-emmerich-on-obliterating-the-white-house-162259099.html](https://barbtaub.files.wordpress.com/2016/07/tumblr_inline_o99zniennt1u8exuo_500.gif?w=529)
Okay, this is actually from the first movie. But how much more Fourth of July can you get than an exploding White House? Even Nigel Farage was riffing this one… (Plus…Will Smith. Oh yeah.) [image credit: yahoo movies]
And I’m hiding out in Spain. where I just might stay until Donald Trumpet finishes demolishing the party of Lincoln.
Meanwhile, here are a few thoughts from last year’s Fourth of July.
My friend Hamish invited me to join him for his archery club’s annual competition on Sunday in which they shoot the American. He is planning to dress as a Confederate officer for the event, but all are encouraged to come in “outrageous” American dress.
Sadly—because I can think of a number of Americans who would make SUCH excellent targets—he explained that “The American” refers to a form of competition in which arrows are shot at specified distances (2 ½ dozen at 60 yds, 2 ½ dozen at 50 yds, and 2 ½ dozen at 40 yds).

For more information, see http://www.glasgowarchers.co.uk/
It’s probably just as well that I won’t be able to attend. This is Glasgow after all, so I think it’s pretty likely there will be copious amounts of alcoholic incentive. I wouldn’t want to run into any well-lubricated champion archers who might still hold a grudge about that whole hiding behind trees—not to mention shooting at those guys wearing red coats and marching in a straight line—we Americans went in for back in 1776.
My visiting daughter and I were discussing the upcoming holiday and the Fourth of July Snickerdoodles she’d brought.
“Aren’t you an American?” Emma, who was ringing up our groceries, asked.
“Yes,” I admitted.
“There’s one thing about America that I’ve always wanted to know.”
“No, I don’t think the moon landings were actually fakes, but I can’t say the same about Kim Kardashian’s boobs, most presidential candidates, and people who claim they actually enjoy the taste of tofu.”
“No.” She blinked at me. “What I really wanted to know is what Snickerdoodles are. Do they come from Snickers Bars?”

(**And, just for Emma, here is our Snickerdoodle recipe, from my mother’s 1956 Betty Crocker’s Picture Cook Book, McGraw-Hill, New York). Happy Fourth!)
“Snickerdoodles, ” I informed her, “are our sacred birthright as god-bless-Americans, and as such are not usually allowed to leave the US. Snickers, on the other hand, have made it to Glasgow where they are, of course, likely to end up deep-fried.”
Most of the time, Snickerdoodles are cinnamon-sugar coated rounds of buttery goodness, but as an essential part of the Fourth of July festivities, Americans often give in to the unfortunate urge to substitute red, white. and blue sugar for the coatings. Sadly, this isn’t even close to being the worst culinary crime we Americans commit in the name of Fourth of July dessertage. Jello goes over to the dark side, but it is cakes which seem to bring out a particularly sadistic streak in amateur holiday bakers.
This is one of your ‘let’s make Mary snort coffee out of her nose’ posts. That penis cake is … well, actually, words fail me.
Never heard of Snickerdoodles so had to turn to Google – there are millions of recipes for them.
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Mary snorted coffee? My work here is done. [dusts off hands…]
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Okay, I shall be ‘good’, bite my tongue and just say I am ever so grateful to be where I am!
OY VEY, OY GEVALT!!!
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Yup. Happy 4th anyway!
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Et bonne fête here on 14 July!
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Joyeux Quatorze Juillet!
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Merci beaucoup mon amie!
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My favorite part about the Fourth of July is that it’s another excuse to eat ice cream, with cherries and salted caramel. Loved your initial response to the lass. I may have to steal that one for Brandi. 🙂
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I’d be so flattered if it was Brandi-worthy!!
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You guys have really pushed the progress button since independence. I’ll really proud of y’all.
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Well, apparently you guys are about to join us. (I can get you a good deal on fireworks!)
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I’m with Mary. Words fail me. A belated Happy 4th, Barb!!
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Thanks! How was your holiday?
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It was lovely. Went to my brother’s. Great to be away from my blinking computer for a few hours!!
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Ha! Too funny Barb. When I worked for a retail distribution center here in Ottawa, we had a hollow chocolate supplier we used mostly around Easter for bunnies, chicks and other figures. His name was George and he was Greek and he was a character. I used to go visit his plant occasionally, especially during the Easter shipping season, and have an ouzo with him. George was always showing me other figurines he could do in chocolate and some were very naughty. I bought a 16 inch chocolate penis from him as a joke gift for a stag party. Our warehouse had two parallel purchasing options for stores. They had to buy 80% through our warehouse but they were allowed to purchase 20% outside and we would process and deliver it for them. Our warehouse listed about 30 of George’s chocolate figures as warehouse SKU’s – all were politically correct. One of the oddities of Canadian life is that Quebec has a very different culture and different likes and dislikes when it came to fashion and sex. Our Quebec stores bought a number of X rated chocolate figures direct from George and we delivered them. George had given all his figurines innocuous names. He had one very detailed large figure entitled “Hawaiian Hula Dancer” = and all she was wearing was the Hula skirt and nothing else. Our Quebec stores ordered and sold thousands of them for direct delivery from George to their stores – they were very popular and very naked from the waist up.
One day some Hula Dancers got mixed in with a regular warehouse order and automatically got listed as warehouse inventory without anyone actually examining them. Sure enough, within a short time, one of our stores in Stratford Ontario ordered a few hundred of them. Now,you have to know that our stores were franchises and the owner of this franchise was a) the mayor of the town; b) a member in high standing of the local church; c) had a huge number of customers who were Mennonites (the ones with the beards who drive horse and carriage because they are so orthodox) and parked their horses at his store while shopping.
No one noticed the slip and when the figures arrived at his store, an employee dutifully built a large display on the selling floor. The figures were large enough that they were in solid white boxes, so no one noticed. It was when a customer opened one of the boxes to inspect it and brought it to the store owner, that the error first became evident. Our mayor and church elder with the Mennonite customers, had hundreds of topless Hula dancers displayed on his store floor. Bwahaha! It wasn’t long before my phone rang – as the transportation manager – with a demand to get these #$%^ X rated figures out of his store and fast. His next call was to the company owner, who rained nasty down upon the head of the buyer – who was responsible for warehouse inventory. In retrospect it was very funny – the only man I know who tried to sell porn to Mennonites. Ha!
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Paul–This is ANOTHER hilarious slice of your life. A book, man: you need to write us a book!!!
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