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Summer marches across the sky. It is fireworks day in the US of A.

We may see some from the roof tonight, if someone in Jersey, across New York Harbor, sees fit to fire into the sky. The big show is in the Hudson and we will not see that. At least...I don't think. I am tempted, because it is spectacular, but it will probably mean a whole lot of standing and as of last weekend and the train that never came, my back has resigned from standing. But I have encouraged the Frenchie and his collection of lenses to visit Jersey to take pictures. I hope he does.

Grump.

The East River has been neglected for years, now, in terms of the major fireworks display. Grump. I suppose Queens and Brooklyn don't count as much as Jersey, That Other State, does. I mean, between these two eastern boroughs of NYC we can only scare up a combined population of just over 4,700,000 people (2010 census). Or is it because Jersey recently came 4th overall in a national beach pollution test by the Natural Resources Defence Council, and was the 4th cleanest?! And New York City beaches came 24th, with one of the lowest scores, and the most sewage (- and how much of that runoff flows down the Hudson, huh, huh?)!

I knew swimming off the Rockaways was a bad idea.

Grump.

Have a raspberry. They are a good match for cold white wine.

And, yes. That is an ice cube in the wine.

Good for Grumps.