Last weekend, That Girl, the Palinode, and I went to a folk festival. On our way there, we picked up amazing sandwiches and Brio at the Italian Star Deli, because everyone should know the joy of an Italian Star Deli sandwich and Brio, and That Girl had yet to know the pleasure.
And then we ate our sandwiches. Some of us went at it much more seriously than others. I think I saw his mortadella shivering.
We visited Abigail
and Knuckle Toes
at their merchant tent, and by visited, I mean sat in their chairs and drank coffee regularly throughout the day, because walking? That's hard.
I was once again taken with the Palinode's shapely lips. I was actually trying to get a shot of his über-sexy chin dimple, but it was being highly uncooperative.
Speedy festival-goers came and went while we rested in the shade.
picked his nose.
This man, a perfect stranger, noticed me using my zoom to take a picture of him wearing a false moustache and binoculars. I suck at stealth.
And then, I ate pakora
and butter chicken.
I was too tired to do much walking around, so that's why there are no pictures of musicians. I did hear Bruce Cockburn
over the fence, though, but it wasn't the only song of his I ever liked, so that was a very whatever kind of experience.