The Fourth of July is kind of a thing in our new town, so I couldn’t have imagined being anywhere else this past weekend. It was charming, boisterous, and just a little corny, everything you’d expect (and hope for) in a hometown Fourth of July.
And remember that plum crumble I dreamed of bringing to neighborhood block parties? It made the first of what I anticipate to be many Fourth of July appearances. It just doesn’t get any sweeter than this.