I was in the kitchen grinding meat when I heard the sound of drums drumming and fifes fifing.

Out the window, across a neighbor’s yard, I saw a marching band.

“Parade!” I said, and Iris said, “Is there really a parade?”

There really was.

So I put the meat in the fridge and washed my hands and dressed the children and we ran

outside, across another neighbor’s yard

just in time to see the beginning.

Of which I did not get any pictures, because I didn’t bring my camera.

But there were many many many fire trucks and rescue vehicles. Possibly 40.

Among them were seven vintage fire trucks and all of them whooping their sirens

whoop-whoop which made it quite difficult for anyone to notice when one of the two ambulances

stepped out of line whoop-whoop and another whoop-whoop HOOONK! and a HOOONK!

because there was some real emergency someplace, not just a parade.

Afterwards, we went home, got strollers and diaper changes, shoes hats and toys, and we went to the fire station

where they were showing of the newly-restored Engine No. 1

and giving out some thank-yous.

We took our own vintage 1960s fire engine for a photo-op amongst the big ones.