Hubby and I are enjoying the weekend by spending it mostly in pj's, drinking irresponsible amounts of beer and setting off fireworks. I'm sure fireworks have to be bad for the planet and all, but I really can't help myself. They're one of my very favorite things, and I cackle like a (very juvenile) mad woman every time we set one off. It doesn't matter if they're small, large, sparkly, crackly or just one loud bang. I love them all. My favorite thing about them is not knowing exactly what they're going to do - each one is a surprise in a colorful little package.
Much like life.
(a mere portion of this year's haul)