My husband, John, called me just a couple days before the Fourth. I knew he was outside because the wind blowing across his cell phone was really loud. Really, really loud.
"Ya gotta come see this," he told me.
"Where are you??"
"On top of the grain leg. I'm getting the flag up."
So I loaded up the kids to run the couple miles up the road, so they could see Daddy risking life and limb to fly the flag. We missed it. By the time we got there, he had it up and had already climbed back down. From the 135-foot high grain leg. But boy did that flag look nice.
Then Saturday morning, John found this note taped to the machine shed door.
It sure is nice to be appreciated, but mostly it's nice to have our flag appreciated. Thanks for noticing, Bushnell VFW. We appreciate you, too.