Great Fourth

For once, my 4th of July did not involve getting my ass kicked at Mars, dealing with stifling heat and crowds on the Mall or at a bar, or going to some party that just couldn't possibly live up to the hype and hoopla of the day. Instead, we went to Mary's family's big shindig. It was a combination Independence Day/multi-birthday/family reunion thing at someone's farm down south from Manassas or west from Quantico out in rural Fauquier County, Virginia. [as a side note, I will never tire of pronouncing it "Fucker County"]

First of all, there was plenty of good beer and some fantastic Virginia barbecue. And the place was decked out for fun... big tents set up on the lawn for everyone, a pool in the backyard, karaoke on the front porch, a pond people could go fishing in, volleyball, etc, etc.

Everyone was having a great time, even through a brief downpour. I specifically loved sipping a beer while swaying on the porch swing with Mary, watching some hilariously bad karaoke renditions of Frank Sinatra tunes. But the highlight of the party for me was hearing Mary's uncle Dave come from the back yard to let the owners of the place know that "bacon is eating the garbage."

I of course could only wonder how the hell bacon could eat garbage, so I jumped up to go investigate. It turns out that the pet pig, named Bacon, was eating the trash from the party. Awesome. Just when it seemed like things couldn't be more fun, there's a pig named Bacon running around. Later, when sitting around eating, someone asked "why did Bacon run away?" I quickly answered "he probably caught a whiff of our huge tray of pork barbecue and knew what was up."