Hazel received her first chicken foot. She took with great delicacy. She has a very soft mouth, never snaps at food, I have seen carry a Ritz Cracker by the edge, and not break it. Her mother was mostly hunting dog we think-- a fiest, a Southern general purpose hunting companion. Hazel took the foot to  to her dog bed and admired it for a little while, then she ate it with a horrid crunching sound.

Now the night is so late it is almost morning. The fireworks are over, at least the legal ones. My neighbors are out in the street. They are cooking out with a grill on the sidewalk. They are dancing and singing and drinking. They do this every Friday. Tonight we seem to be having James Brown. They just finished Sex Machine. Four stories up it is loud enough to make sleep difficult. Husband of course can sleep through anything. On the carrier his berth was right under the flight deck. Noise does not trouble sailors. And he will be a sailor forever.

I think being a sailor is like being a mother. Loud may be ok, but there are certain sounds that wake you right up, a croupy cough, a particular cry, a voice that calls 'Mom' in a certain way that means run and bring a bucket. you might as well have someone shout 'General Quarters.' So this particular loud is a happy loud, I am going to pull the pillow over my head and eventually sleep. My family and my neighbors are safe tonight..