Jour de l’amitié

We have a quaint custom in L’ville, something that dates from our early days of residence. It’s called Friendship Day, or the French equivalent as noted in the title to this entry. Supposedly it is to signify the good relations between neighbours, be they anglophone or francophone, that we enjoy in our little town. When we were subsumed by the larger city of Sh’brooke, we kept our annual celebration, even though we’re just a borough now.

There was the book sale outside the library and the parade that began with our fire department’s finest and ended with volunteers shoveling up horse shit. Hubby and I toured the craft tables in the French elementary school auditorium (it seems like forever now since my kids attended classes there) and we bought a few items: hand-woven dishcloths, some wee jade elephants, hand-made soap and healing shea butter, and saw acquaintances we only bump into at these sorts of things.

Tonight we watched fireworks and that made me happy. I love fireworks. They were pretty good, too. There’s something about bright colours, sparkles and loud bangs set against the night sky that is entrancing. They are also so ephemeral. Like us. We go out like huge bursts of light, dazzling, scintillating, and then we’re gone, and all that remains is a memory of something beautiful. Or at least, I hope that’s what remains.

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