A family a couple of houses down the street from us were shooting off fireworks in the street. I felt like an intruder on their family event as I watched from our porch. The dad would light the rockets up and the little kids would squeal and laugh with excitement. They were running around shrieking as fountains of pyrotechnics erupted, sparkling in bright red, green and blue sparks, then making strange screaming sounds as huge streams of gold arched out of them, and suddenly there would be popping gun sounds as hundreds of little explosions finished off the tube. (I don't know proper terms for anything! It was a tube, like in a paper towel roll, that was filled with firework-stuff and he'd light it and the sparks would stream out one end.) Dad never did anything like that when we were kids, so it was just fascinating to wtach, because I'd never seen portable fireworks like that before. All I've ever seen are the big productions that cities put on. They blew seven or eight of those things up before ushering the kids in for bed.