Love And Rockets

Proving it's never too late on a hot summer day to get out and do something, we moved out for an ice cream, lo' about 8 o'clock.

Help me, Mr. Cone in Chicopee.



We grabbed a table while Kelly went up for the ice cream. The Bloggerette is old enough now to know exactly what type of product can be found at such an establishment, and watched with bated breath for mommy to return with the goods.

Wait for iiiiit....



Wait for iiiiiit....



Here it comes!



While messily scarfing down some coconut-hot fudge and carmel ice cream, there could be heard in the distance the crackles and pops of backyard fireworks off in the distance, another icon of summer. Then I remembered reading that Chicopee was having a festival of some sort going on this weekend. A Chicopee-ite munching on a cone at a neighboring table alerted us to the fact that the real fireworks were going to be on at about 9:30.

We hurried up with the eating, packed up and scooted across town, soon cramming one more vehicle into an utterly jammed Szot Park parking lot. Then it was a short stumble in the dark towards the brightly lit commotion that was Chicopee's Fest-Of-All.



To say it was crowded would be an understatement.



We toured the expansive set up spread out all around the park, with many many tents and much food and spirits for the so inclined. But time was getting tight. A policeman directed us down to the playing fields, which we found covered wall to wall with folk revved up for the show.



We grabbed a seats just as the lights went down, and the fireworks went up.



It was a darn good display.





From what I've seen over the years, Chicopee's pretty much always delivers.



As the finale died down the lights came up. And the scramble for the exits began.



Most people were heading back to the main festival grounds, where food and drink were still flowing.



We held back, and waited for it to clear out a bit before mixing into the fray.



We had plenty of time. After all, we just got here.