Story Days

Recently I moved to a little town called Story. Population 650 and I think a lot of those are seasonal residents. It's a cute town. EVERYONE wants to live here. We have a creek running along the property and the sound of the rushing water has lowered my blood pressure way down to where I am probably normal.

This weekend is Story Days. The whole town gets together and puts on a shindig. All of the locals do something. There is even a parade. Now if you live in a large metropolitan area and have the occasional parade you ain't seen nothin' like this! Although not as Norman Rockwell as the ones I saw in small town Wisconsin, this one was truly a delight.

It started before it started. First there was gunfire followed by sirens. Then some Civil War troops marched down the street.... then the sirens got louder and then they announced the parade.

First in line were the Fire department and rescue squad followed by the sheriff, highway patrol and National Guard. Thank goodness nothing ever happens here as all of the protection services were in the parade.

There were cowboys and Indians. There were Masons and Shriners (including the contingent in go carts weaving around in their Fezzes. There were clowns with pitchforks (yes clowns with weapons very scary) There was a few floats. I think the most confusing one was the kid in the wire pen and a guy in a chicken outfit dancing and there was a tipi on the back. There was a pipe and drum band and later on a lone piper. The local radio station had a boom box van playing classic rock and there was a showing from both the Big Horn Model A club and another classic car group who had not only the usual 1930's and 40's souped up cars but a large group of high end muscle cars squealing their wheels and revving up their engines plus a viper a prowler and several model years of corvettes and mustangs.

The whole thing was so cute I cried. Now my neighbors think I'm nuts.

Currently outside ...probably in front of my house is an Indian Dance performance.

And a fun highlight that I enjoyed was the kid who walked over to my fence and tried to dump trash nonchalantly on the ground. He saw me see him and he gave me the "what are you going to do about it" look. I gave him the "pick it up or I will jump this fence and rip your head off and use you as a garbage can" look. He picked it up and put it back in his pocket. Justice prevails.

Well as non social as I am, I am a prisoner in my home this weekend. The street is parked up with visitors and crowds of people. But I'm fine. I still have unpacking and cleaning to do.

Next year will be different. I want to enter my Lamb Tagine in the dutch oven cook off. I also want to set up a booth at the bazaar and sell some yarn and jewelry. Had I known about this a few weeks earlier I would have done it this year. Day late dollar short... story of my life.

I know I know it's been over a month!

So when I last blogged I was hopelessly addicted to a stupid computer game that was holding me captive. Well now I have 5 cities not one, I have prestige reaching 140000, I have been promoted to General and Earl. I'm still addicted but I can put the computer down.

Also since I last blogged the house we were living in sold so we had to find a place to live. Hubbins was out of town still (since March) I was freaking out and got totally depressed to the point of no longer functioning. It's been almost 20 years since I have been like that. Things turned around in the weirdest way.

I had put in an application for a house on a quiet street in town. I went to the grocery store to get some comfort food. As I was leaving the store I stopped at the gumball machines and put my 50 cents in for a Santo. Yes tiny plastic saint statues from vending machines. I received a Saint Jude. Patron Saint of hopeless causes. My next day at work I placed the little Santo on my computer monitor. Later in the morning I got a call from the potential landlord saying I didn't get the house. My boss's wife at that point, sent me a list of a few places for rent. One was already rented, one was too expensive, one was way too small and I called the third. The owner said it was a "very rustic" cabin in a cute little town. It took me three tries to find it. Once I found it I fell in love. We moved in this week.

It's right on the creek and I sleep like a rock and my blood pressure has gone down enough were I almost had silence one morning. My tenitis had quieted down to where it wasn't like walking through a field of cicadas.

Well Les Stroud is on Craig Ferguson tonight ... I will try to say awake an watch.