Life was good, yesterday. We started the holiday by picking blueberries for some neighbors. They run a commercial farm and had made a commitment to several stores. Unfortunately, many of the people that were going to pick went on vacation. So, several of us pitched in. (Look for Meadow Glen blueberries at local stores, they are quite nice) We then ate lunch at home and began packing the van.
When we arrived at the T’s house there didn’t seem to be much excitement. Several people were making water balloons and many others were sitting around. I headed out the front door and saw Jeff sitting around. However, he was sitting around and doing something rather exciting, namely, dismembering Piccolo Petes with channel-lock pliers. He would then pour the resulting powder into small prescription medicine bottles. These would be wrapped in copious amounts of tape with a fuse in one end. A big, black bomb was sitting in a box, made with an amount of powder I will specify later. The one he was working on when we showed up contained the powder from 5 Piccolo Petes, enough to make an impressive bang when exploded several minutes later. If you want to hear about more illegal firework exploits, do not leave this page.
Next was a balloon toss, which my parents won handily. They ended up more than 50 feet apart. I offered to play, “Toss the H-bomb” with someone, but was refused. A ‘Funilator’ contest followed. Mr. T. had made a three man slingshot out of surgical tubing and a large funnel. The idea was to shoot targets placed in an unused field. Hitting a cow would earn you double prizes. However, the solid funnel popped the water balloons many more times than it launched them. After several hundred balloons were sent to their doom, and several hits were gained, several people decided to just toss at the cows. Hitting a bovine with a water balloon at 200 feet is no small feat, but several people did it. When one of the cows were hit they usually didn’t care, but they did once. The last balloon was cast: someone claimed that it would hit a nose, lo and behold, Peanut was pegged in exactly that location. The result was one mad cow and many laughing people.
Time for an interlude, something that happened during the time I am recounting anyway. Has anyone seen a bee firework dropped in water? The ‘dihdydrogen monoxide’ bubbles intensely and a green light illuminates the container. Anyways, you may now return to your scheduled programming.
After dinner Jeff suggested Ultimate Frisbee. This was executed in the front yard (which was too small, but we weren’t going in the cow pasture) with teams of boys against girls. We were outnumbered, but won at 10-3. The girls weren’t very happy about that, and jumped to a deal for a rematch when Jeff offered to play with three boys versus five girls. This proved more climactic, but the guys played much better and settled the matter with 5-3 points.
Well, around 8:45 Mr. T. decided to shoot off some parachute fireworks while there was still light out. He had about 20 of those and proceeded to fire them. Jeff and several other people had blown things up sporadically throughout the day, but started earnestly at this time. Now comes the story you have (probably) been waiting for. Remember the big, black bomb? Yes, Jeff and Josh H. had filled it with the powder of 12 or 13 Piccolo Petes and covered it with electrical and duct tape. It ended up the size of a large fist with a convenient fuse on the top. (I hope there is a picture of it somewhere, hint, hint, Chelsea) It was brought to the chicken yard and subsequently blown up. Suffice it to say that it was very loud, and even from 150 feet away I felt a major shockwave. An inch deep crater was formed and an area 10 feet in diameter was cleaned of dust. Additionally, the bottom of the container was blasted into the ground. When we looked ten minutes later we could still see the smoke a half-mile down the valley. Very illegal, very impressive.
From that point on (about 9:00) we started lighting the sky in a serious manner. A vast profusion of fountains, bottle rockets, roman candles and mortars went up in flames. 6 tanks had a battle, more parachutes were launched, fun was in the air. At one point, my brother had a roman candle ball burn through his shirt. There is a reason for the warning stickers, oh well. Some 20 strobes were lit throughout the night, making everyone rather annoyed. Of course, I couldn’t get away without explaining another exploit masterminded by Jeff. Four mortar tubes were lined up and launched simultaneously. During the two hours we were launching, about 8 other houses in the valley had their own show going. From our vantage point we observed that most of Chelatchie Prairie was filled with smoke. Sometime around 10:20, we noticed flashes on the horizon, accompanied by low rumbles. We deduced it to be the Fort Vancouver show. Additionally, around 10:30 we saw a procession of mortar shells coming from a hill that looked suspiciously like the one the B’s live on. Is my suspicion valid?
There is one last thing I have to mention. I have heard rumors of something rather bizarre happening the next (this) morning, but I will need a T. to explain it. However, rumors could be just that.
