The 25th annual Fall Festival took place this weekend in our hometown, not far from where we live now. I can't believe it's been 25 years. I remember marching as a youth league cheerleader in one of the very first festival parades. Now, all these years later, we're back and I had to go and take Miss Ella. Matt was surpisingly enthusiastic, given he'd never been to the parade or the festival.
Watching the parade go by
We arrived just in time to catch up with my friend, Krista and her son, Colin. They live within walking distance to the downtown area so (bonus!) we had an easy time finding parking (her driveway). We made our way to a shaded spot in front of the old middle school just in time for the parade. There were marching bands, dancers, old cars, fire engines and even a real live camel!! Ella especially liked the Scottish bag pipe band -- twisting her little fanny and sucking on a lolly pop. Miss thing ate about a pound of tootsie rolls and dum dums and even chugged a little of Daddy's diet coke, well at least it was diet. She's now been introduced to sugary madness and we should now be ready for Halloween.
Colin was smart -- he brought his halloween gear and loaded up on candyThe craft booths looked more than enticing to me but I knew Ella and Daddy had rather eat straight pins so we went to the town green and had some lunch. Ella ran all over the place burning off that sugar. Then we headed home -- where she took a nice nap.
It's a strange thing going home after many years, and particularly visiting an event or place that was once a big part of your life. Familiar faces all look older, the youngsters who have taken your place all look so much younger. No one knows your name any more, your time here has passed. But it's still home.
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