Something about the whole experience gave me a burning desire to be Swedish. I mean, a downright pure Swede. I am a mutt, if you will. A little German (this explains my self-diagnosed obsessive compulsive disorder), a little English (which explains why I can talk in a British accent so fluently), and a little Cherokee Indian (this explains why I have auburn-colored hair). Many of you are wondering if the Cherokee thing is true and to all of you I ask this question..."How could I lie about something like that?"
Anyway, we had a great time at the festival. My intention was to document all of our "stops", but as I look back through the pictures, I think I left out a few detours.
Here is a little synopsis of our trip:
Pit-Stop 1: The Squ.are Cup for smoothies. Nice and refreshing on a hot day!
Pit-Stop 2: Train ride for Luke and echoes of Bill grumbling under his breath that it cost him $4 for Luke to ride.
Pit-Stop 3: Rus.ty the Clo.wn and Luke's first sword balloon. Luke was very into Rusty, but only from about 10 feet away (if only knew that Rusty was one of his His Kids teachers at church! HA!)
Pit-Stop 4: Dinner. Grilled chicken, baked beans and coleslaw. Yummo. No picture for this one. It must have something to do with being a mom trying to get everyone fed.
Pit-Stop 5: Swedish dancers. So cute and the accompanied accordion music topped it off!
Pit-Stop 6: Dessert. How can you not order a funnel cake when you attend festivals?
And now, you can sum it up by humming the following song in your head (to the tune of "12 Days of Christ.mas".
On the Friday night of Swedish Festival, old Stromsburg gave to me:
12 Swedish Dancers
11 sips of smoothie
10 minutes of accordion
9 funny clown tricks
8 tickets for train rides
7 bites of funnel cake
6 pieces of chicken
5 trips to the porta-potty
4 dollars left
3 scary carnival rides
2 joyful parents
And a van with some tired kids
2 comments:
Sounds like a fun time--I didn't even know this existed (and did you know I am in fact 1/4 Swedish? It's true my mom's dad actually immigrated with his family from Sweden as a young boy. Supposedly my lineage goes back all the way to Leif Ericson!). ;o) The rest it all German though. Ha--Hansmeyer, go figure . . .
Another good post, Tiff! Thanks for giving me a good read before I'm off to bed! :)
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