As an oldest child with admitted control issues and a progressively worsening case of obsessive-compulsive disorder, I am a list-making, plan-following organizer who is not a big fan of spontaneity. However, sometimes when the rest of the world goes off-script, it turns out better than expected. Our Fourth of July celebration at Lake Orion (which actually took place on the Second of July) was one of those times.
We had invited the usual motley crew – my family and a few family friends. We had the awesome Deluxe Screened Gazebo filled with lawnchairs, beach towels, and lake toys. We had purchased a button-popping amount of food and drinks. I had spent hours chopping for my gargantuan veggie platter. I had picked up a chocolate cake with buttercream frosting from Kroger’s (my most missed snack when I’m overseas) with frosting-inscribed birthday wishes for America. As the day progressed, the kayak and paddle boat were getting a good workout, and the brats were on the grill. All was going according to the usual July 4th agenda.
John poses next to my beautiful veggie platter.
The men fire up the grill.
Nico and Mike fish from the dock.
Britt takes Paul out for a ride.
Suddenly, the sky went dark and a bit green. Surely it was about to rain. Should we take down the Deluxe Screened Gazebo? Nah, said my dad. My brother-in-law, John, swore he didn’t mind grilling in the rain. Cool.
Next thing we knew, marble-sized hail rained down with gale-force winds, pelting everyone and filling the Deluxe Screened Gazebo’s roof with ice balls until a plastic joint cracked into pieces, and the whole lovely thing collapsed in a heap. While we ladies watched from the dry dining room, our brave men salvaged our belongings and frolicked in the hail. John even continued tending to our dinner, risking a concussion.
Check out the video!
Our lakeside picnic moved indoors, but just as we sat down to eat, our power went out. This was status quo for us in Laos, but we weren’t as prepared for an electricity-free evening in America. We lit our few candles, but I scooped out cake and ice cream in virtual darkness.
The storm passed in about an hour, but our power didn’t return until around 1 a.m.
Paul picks up all the hail.
Eventually, we paraded to the lakefront to watch the fireworks show, but it also fizzled. According to the gossip mill, (a) one of the barges caught fire and a technician was badly injured, or (b) the power outage precluded setting off the cannons. A fireworks do-over is scheduled for tonight.
We had planned a sleep-over with my sisters, their hubbies and the nephews, but nobody seemed excited about staying with no power, so they all traipsed back to my parents’ house. It was too dark to clean up, and I didn’t want to keep opening the fridge to put away our few leftovers, so Tony and I just crashed on our basement sofa-bed (where the temperature was about 30 degrees cooler than upstairs).
When we got up the next morning, we walked drop-jawed into the kitchen. It looked like a bear had ransacked the place overnight. Cauliflower left on the countertop had stunk up the entire house. Frosting coated my toaster and coffee maker. Chip dip caked the kitchen island and chairs. Piles of sopping wet towels dotted the floor among scattered leaves, sticks and dirt tracked in during the storm. You would have thought we had a kegger frat party instead of a family gathering with mostly 40-to-60-somethings. There was nothing to do but laugh and clean.
Although I’m sad about the Deluxe Screened Gazebo’s demise, I have to admit the storm added a fun twist to an otherwise run-of-the-mill Fourth of July celebration.