|No snappy caption. Just my baby girl kickin' it with da boyz.|
Once we had all reassembled at home base, we decided to visit the annual Bush Hill Heritage Festival. Let me preface the following by saying I hate crowds. I come from a small town in waaaay out in rural eastern NC, population 600 (give or take a stray dog). I graduated from a small Christian school with 14 kids in my class. I am accustomed to space. Lots of it. Where I come from, houses are few and far between. And people are even fewer and far-er between-er. I like being able to have a wide open path if I need to flee, say, a running of the bulls or even worse, an army of free hug givers (true story--ask my friend Mary Margaret). I have avoided Bush Hill Heritage like the plague. It would take an act of Congress to make me go willingly into those crowds on a very hot day. An act of Congress or an act of begging and pleading by the Sound & the Fury.
The girls & myself all take dance at Magic Feet Dance Company here in Archdale (Ms. Kody is so cool I want to be her when I grow up, but since I'm old enough to be her big sister, that's a physical impossibility). Last week Kody told us that MFDC was having a booth at Bush Hill and they were going to be doing hair feathers cheap. Real cheap. The girls have been bugging me for feathers in their hair for months, but at upwards of $20 a pop, I told them they'd best chase down a pigeon. Or given our location here in Randolph Co, a chicken. Kody sealed the deal by saying her booth was close to the side entrance. In the interest of my children, I agreed to go.
I'm not sure where the "Heritage" part of the "Heritage Festival" comes in. If I'd have to hazard a guess, I'd say the early Quaker settlers descended from clowns who fit into tiny cars or college students who liked to cram into phone booths. Apparently the early Quakers existed on a diet high in funnel cake and snow cones as well. Just my observation.
Between the heat and the crowd, I was almost in full blown panic attack mode by the time we walked by the second booth. I spied a rival clogging team's booth & I almost switched our affiliation, just to get us out of there. Sure the other team's dance resume might only include the Hokey Pokey, but it was right there. Thankfully before I signed us all up, J saw MFDC & we made a bee line (provided the bee was highly intoxicated and flying around in circles between people). I parted with my money as I do so well and the girls got their feathers. Given that I spent many a childhood summer at my grandparent's working in the chicken coop and the last thing I want associated with my person is anything that pecks, I don't understand the attraction of feathers. But hey, I had red streaks in my hair so who am I to judge? Plus, we had already made it this far and by golly, they were going to get feathered!
We had accomplished what we came to do & if we didn't get out of this mass quickly, I was going to have to dig in my pocketbook for Xanax. The problem with J is that everybody knows him and it's like walking with a politician. I had to get him out of there before he started posing for pictures and kissing babies. Ok, not really that bad, but when you're on the verge of a panic attack, everything seems more pronounced. Thankfully MFDC was close to the side exit so we headed out. Before leaving, J stopped to say hi to his father, who had been there since 8am--just for fun!!! I can think other things that pass for fun on my list before being in that crowd ; a root canal without Novocaine, being audited by the IRS, seeing Garrison Keillor, for example.
Maybe next year J will take the girls and they can see more. As much as you can see, with wall to wall people. I am staying at home in the air conditioning.
P.S.--seriously, kudos to the AT Chamber of Commerce. These crowds attest to the fact that you are doing something right. Bigtime right.
|I was playing around with the photo editor and liked the look of the final pic. Makes me look all fancy and stuff.|