Views from this past weekend, weekend one of Colonial Beach’s Potomac River Festival.
Hippy Van! Right, check out the VW bus with the pretty flower.
But wait, let’s look at this van from another angle.
Not so much a hippy van. When Tony and Stacy spotted that and told me, I couldn’t believe it. Hippy + Bush/Cheney sticker? The mind, it boggles.
So, last weekend was festival. For those just tuning in here, festival is weekend (this year 2 weekends) long event parades, fireworks, music, drinking,(or there used to be drinking except now we’re all old,) carnival, etc. It’s the start of summer for most of us who grew up in this area, and really is not to be missed, even if it is really a couple lame parades, as you never know who you’ll run into.
I saw several of my high school classmates and their various and assorted children, a billion different people that I’ve known forever, and it really was a good weekend. But, an odd weekend. Tracey missed it for the first time ever as her son, Daniel was graduating from high school. Right there it was a piece of us missing. No Tracey, no Danny (her husband, not son).
We still had a good time, it just seems our idea of a good time has changed. Now it’s watching the kids’ faces or chatting with an old school mate instead of seeing how much vodka you can drink in one weekend.
It’s sitting in the sun, slathered in sunscreen, as you’ve come to realize that tanning is evil. It’s a big straw hat so you’re head that has much less hair on it, doesn’t burn.
(see I have hair again. Bad picture as I had just gone swimming with the boys and just taken my hat off, no makeup and tiredness, so ignore the scary look at the hair.)
It’s eating wraps on the point, late at night, during a wild thunderstorm, just you and your husband, stuffed in a little tiny car, giggling in awe over the lightning flashing around you.
It’s climbing into bed smelling like sunscreen, bug repellent, fireworks, and outside, with dose of sweat thrown in.
Festival is well, hard to explain to people who didn’t grow up in a small town. In fact, it is hard to explain to people who did grow up in a small town, if they don’t have something like this.
And, it’s now 3.24 AM, I’m exhausted, I’m sure this is disjointed but, I can always write more later.
have a great day,