What if, instead of celebrating the news, President Adams sat in the darkness of his study, amid his books and papers, and considered that despite the news, the military occupations would continue unabated?
Last year’s patriotic Jell-O mold was a hit. A wiggly, jiggly, gelatin hit. This year, not so much. The handmade brown and taupe stars I used to garnish the small, bulbous mold weighted down the peach Jell-O structure, which was weakened by a half cup of blackberry-infused vodka. A rift quickly formed, which was symbolic. Midway through the Jewish-hotdog-chardonnay-cicle-and-kiddie-pool party I held at my house, the Jell-O seemed to be attempting an escape. It too wanted independence. Finally, one of my guests and I broke down and sipped it through a straw—klassy. Being free is nice.