FREEDOM!

I still haven't watched the fireworks.
The local display was delayed because of threatening weather. I plan to watch tonight.

I did spend part of the American holiday celebrating freedom doing something I didn't want to do.
Wait. I thought I was free from that.
I do have liberty, but I can't absolve myself of having to deal with the consequences of my choices.

Yesterday morning, my lovely wife decided that it would be a good investment of part of our day off to clean the garage. Any of you who have a "box for cars (That's what a Russian guy with limited English called a horseless-carriage house.) know the routine. Garages seem to magically attract an eclectic accumulation of stuff--otherwise known as junk. In my case there were tools that haven't been put away, leftover construction and decorating materials--not to mention materials for projects yet to come--sporting goods, toys for the grandkids, and a few "what-in-the-world-is-that"s. To complete the picture sprinkle liberally with leaves and debri that blow in the door, a liberal helping of dust and dirt from refinishing projects, and you'll kinda-sorta get the picture. I figured both cars would still fit in, so what's the big deal? Kathy can explain the BIG-DEAL.

So, in the interest of domestic tranquility, I helped her clean the garage. (By the way, be watching, a yard sale is coming.) Though I admit I am pleased with the result, and I did find some stuff that I haven't been able to locate for months, at the time I didn't really want to spend my Fourth toting junk and pushing a broom.

My better half--and she is a blessedly better half--was operating from a superior understanding of freedom. I was thinking about what I have the freedom to do--or in this case not do. She was wisely considering what no amount of freedom can prevent--eventual suffocation by the accumulation of stuff. She is right. Freedom always brings responsibility.
Let me change the picture for a moment. Your metabolism might be different than mine, but concerning me: I have the freedom to eat sugar, french-fries, and ice-cream three times a day, but if I do, I am not free from the consequence of becoming so big that I can't fit into the newly cleaned garage.

When we cry "Freedom!" the inevitable echo says "responsibility and consequences." We can't have the first without the latter.

While Liberty is on our minds, it's STTA.