August 23, 1998
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Cheryl and Lissa getting silly at the Maine Festival. We're sitting in the beer garden, aka the penalty box. It's the only place at the festival where you can drink a beer. It's fenced in. You can't walk around with one in your hand. I dwell on this for the sake of New Orleanians for whom this is truly a foreign concept. In the beer garden you want to watch out for accordian players. They slip in one at a time, then suddenly you're sitting next to a table where a dozen accordians are playing some tune. It doesn't matter what tune it is because they all sound the same when played on accordians. Next week maybe I'll trash bagpipe music. | |
| Sunset is a good time to go out and play with your camera. Here's the reading spot. Speaking of reading, this weekend I tore through Tess Gerritson's Life Support. Mysteries are neither good nor bad, you just can't put them down.
A full house on Saturday. Two sets of parents bringing freshmen to Unity college. The two students, a boy and a girl, met at breakfast, each wearing their favorite macrame. Toot suite. Working extra hours this week trying to get the web-to-Oracle thing done. I actually compiled to an executable just before I left today, so there's hope. Have a good week, everybody! |