This weekend, while at my family's place in Idaho, we went up to a state park where the local community had a fireworks show on the lake shore. It was classic small-town fun--not too many people, but enough to make it enjoyable, you got a great excuse to sit around a mountain lake, and the weather was great. The show was supposed to start at 10:00, and at about 9:45, some fireworks pretty close to where we were sitting started going off. They weren't that big, but we figured, "hey, small town." We knew something was awry when a couple of the charges were angled too low and hit the water, exploding from the surface. I'm sure if there were any fish in that area, they were probably floating belly-up afterward.
Finally at around 10:00, the REAL fireworks started going off. We then realized that the ones next to us were some private individual's fireworks, which explained the drunken aim. The real show was actually pretty impressive. What made it go from cool to impressive, though, was the forested venue. In the quiet forest and across the lake surface, the sound of the explosions seemed a lot louder than you would expect. I swear, every deer, squirrel, duck, and raccoon in the area must have been terrified and ready to rampage. Fortunately we left before the animals attacked and got home to enjoy more of my mom's clam dip that she'd made for the occassion. After eating that all weekend, I saw even more fireworks when I stepped on the bathroom scales this morning.
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I'm sure that was a typo, you must have meant the kitchen scales not the bathroom ones.
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