It's the 4th of July, one of my favourite holidays, but one that brings a fresh bout of homesickness. Though with me in one form or another, right it's like an open sore that cannot be ignored. If I were back home now, I'd be eagerly awaiting the annual Pops Goes the Fourth by the BYO (or, for those unfamiliar with Boston's patriotic extravaganza, Boston's Symphony Orchestra) alongside the Charles River, making my way to at least one cookout. I'd deck my children in red, white and blue and hand them little flags to wave about. As it stands, I am a resident in another country--ironically, the very same one from which my home country celebrates it's independence. I can only hope for recaps of the concert, praying desperately that someone posts the '1812 Overture'. And those children I wish to dress up in the spirit of the holiday? They are British citizens, subject to Her Majesty the Queen--though, when we do relocate back to the States, we can apply for their citizenship due my American birth.
On the other side of the coin, I genuinely do feel at home in the British Isles. I like the small portions at UK restaurants, and the extra efforts at manners--I must hasten to add this isn't always the case in Dundee, Scotland's answer to Lynn, MA. Despite all the things I love about Britain, it simply does not erase or ease the ever present longing for the States, but especially for Boston. Though certainly not a cure-all by any means, for today we'll be endeaouring to assuage our homesickness with Buffalo chicken wraps and a wee look at an mlb online.
No comments:
Post a Comment