My dad and brother, in red long johns (with rear flaps!) Pulling me in a wagon with Grandma Eve at the rear
The highlight of the day was a parade that was held every year. In our younger years we were made to dress up in silly outfits and march or ride our overly crepe-papered tricycles and wagons along the parade route. My parents found great joy in dreaming up the most outlandish, embarrassing things for us to parade as and then proceeded to create our homemade costumes with items from around the house. My dad's bathrobe served as a lovely kimono for my little brother masquerading as an immigrant, my older brother face was smeared in Vaseline and patted down in coffee grounds for a that unshaven, "just off the boat" look. I was pulled along behind in a wagon, wrapped in a grey sheet with a tin foil crown on my head and a toilet paper roll in hand as the Statue of Liberty. We were dressed in pure white sweat-suits one year, and tied together with crepe paper to march as the flag. And yet another were forced to walk as a school of fish? Still wondering about that one.
Ellis Island on the move
me being stapled into a fabulously homemade fish costume by my mom/costume designer
Like Paul mentioned in the previous post, we are struggling to find some family traditions like these. We don't feel the same spirit or energy here that I once felt as a child. I felt like we should have been camping out somewhere or should have been jetting off to a beach cabin somewhere. I feel lucky for those days on Samish Island now. I didn't always appreciate them, but somewhere between being a girl and a mom and feeling a little loss for home and family tradition, I've regained my spirit. I desperately want to have these memories for my family, firecrackers on the beach, watermelon eating contests on the front lawn, speed-croquet competitions among siblings, ceremonial flag raisings and a true celebration of Independence Day. Our search for our "Samish Island" continues.
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