This place again--the state line fireworks warehouse.
We scrambled over here on July 3rd, and it was hoppin'.
Check out this guy's cart piled high with explosives! Carts like his were the norm. (Though we didn't buy nearly that much.)
I only took a few pictures. You know, blow up your favorite founding father (there is some kind of double joke/metaphor in here too, as these are presidents whose faces also appear on money), and then the one with the rather dubious--for several reasons--name.
When we went to blow up our fireworks in the street, we realized that we usually don't blast them on the 4th. We are often traveling, so observe fireworks shows in other places.
So, unlike on New Year's, a lot of cars kept going by and getting in our way (I'm sure they thought we were in their way), and we had to move to our neighbor's driveway because the trees around our place have too many leaves at this time of year and we needed a clear open space.
Our regular Mr. Fusco came out to watch our antics, and some new people too, who encouraged us. Two people came out and yelled at us to stop, which I thought was pretty crabby, it being the 4th and all and only about ten o'clock. But maybe they had scared dogs or something. When they called out we were on our last one anyway (though it was our biggest with 25 shots).
After everything was done, we left the spent fireworks at the end of the neighbor's driveway, as we usually do (well, we usually use our driveway) and went in. A few minutes later one of the crabs (it was the flower lady from down the street), knocked on our door and said in a nasty kind of tone, "You're the people who didn't clean up your fireworks and now you have a fire. A big one!"
Well, I looked out and one of the fireworks had become inflamed (though it was not what I would call a big fire). I quick went and got a big old towel and went out.
"You just left them here," the crab continued.
"Well, yes," I said, "You can't very well take hot fireworks and put them in a bag and leave them up beside your house!"
A car stopped and a lady rolled down her window. "Isn't that dangerous?" She said as I swooped out my towel to contain the fire.
The crab, "You bet it's dangerous!"
I pulled out the neighbor's hose and we drenched the whole lot and then put every dripping thing in a bag so no one could complain about a sodden mess in the morning.
In the morning though, Mr. Fusco exclaimed how much he liked our final big firework. And I was glad. I liked it too.