Saturday, May 16, 2015

Up Up and Away She Goes

We've lived in this lovely little place for five years. Since we spend many weekends...well...gone, we had no idea that there is a hot air ballon mini fest just down the road.  So...  before our leaving town song came on (yes, we have an exit song),
we were the ones sneaking a parking spot to avoid taking a shuttle. 
Soaring into the Sunrise 
Patchwork from below 
A View from inside;  looking up through canvas windows. 

Thursday, May 7, 2015

Throwback Thursday.... Protector of the Kansas Streets

Sometime ago, we were the ones stopping to find a hole-in-the-wall diner and stumbled upon this guy behind one of the grates...
Apparently, the city has many of these underground trolls, peeking up through the roads...
just to envoke nightmares in passersby. 

Monday, May 4, 2015

Paper Love: Are we still asking what the fox says?

I was the one swerving across three lanes on a highway I've never seen to follow the little neon sign that read, "Obscure Books."

Clearly, although you looked mighty angry, I can confidently say that I made the appropriate decision...
This is a book... based on a song.
The answer to the question is, "Woof."
A fox says, "Woof."

"Wooly, wooly, What's His Name"... again

The sounding gun for festival season sounds an awful like the bleeting of our wooled friends.  
Joining forces with a slew of other ridiculous first of May fetes 
(several of which were postponed d/t the sadness in B'More this week),
Sheep & Wool Fest always brings joyance.
We're the ones who, year after year, travel to different Wooly Animal Fests to take classes, attend lectures, and learn the shepherding ways.  
Fascinated, as always, by the dogs who guide the sheeps and the sheeps who disguise as dogs to parade around the ring. 

We were the ones giggling at the obscene amount of yarn bombing along the entrance. 
I think between the MD Sheep & Wool Fest (like this one) & the other Fiber Fests we've gone to, this year's classes and spectacles were number 30.  Happy 30th, strange obsession!

Sellin' Mud

We were the ones driving hours from village to village for pretzels and pickels.
We were the ones delighted to travel to Intercourse, Bird in Hand, & Virginville (snickering like a teenage boy)
We loved the chance to go to a mudsale outside of Lancaster, relishing in the hollering, "What am I bid?" 
A mudsale is an Amish auction.  No mud is harmed (or sold) during a mudsale.