The weekends remain family off-limits time, which is good for all involved.
Saturday the Boy (Elder)™ and I went to soccer practice and the barbershop. While not quite the Freckled Beckenbauer of last year, he's a mobile, stingy defender. Unfortunately, he tries to stop and think out the plan of attack when he actually has the ball. Tonight's his first real game, so we'll see how that goes.
We (ok, I) went to confession in the afternoon and attended Mass on Saturday evening so that we could attend the Renaissance Festival on Sunday. A good time was had by all, at least until we left. Then the whining commenced.
This weekend, the theme was Scotland, Land of Long Drizzles and Longer Feuds. And Sheep. Lots and Lots of Sheep.
Or something like that. A Scottish theme of sorts. Many cabers were tossed, kilts displayed, and Caledonian wares offered, with the best T-shirt line being: "It's a kilt. If I was wearing underwear, it would be a skirt."
We snacked on the usual soup-in-a-breadbowl and the kids all got overpriced trinkets. Heather refused to let me get a walking staff topped with a black glass orb--for only $45, too. I guess there's only so much cultivated eccentricity she's willing to put up with.
We saw the Joust, which started with a moving salute to the fallen in the armed services by an Air Force color guard. The Joust is always worth a stop.
The oldest three enjoyed the bungee/trampoline set up, even Rachel, who was big enough to ride, if only barely. She's fearless, and a joy to watch.
We finished with a stop at the Zucchini Brothers juggling show, which was really, really impressive. Anybody who can keep a garden weasel, a de-canned Spam, a machete and three other objects going in the air while perched on a makeshift teeter totter deserves admiration.
In less fun news, Maddie went to the allergist yesterday, and she suffers from two of my allergies (ragweed pollen and mold) and two unique ones (dust mites and dogs). The latter is not quite an eviction notice for our dog, as it seems likely that she has some immunity to it. But it could be, long term, depending on how she does with the assorted treatments. We're hoping it does not come to that.
More as time permits.
A middle-aged husband, father, bibliophile and history enthusiast commenting to no one in particular.
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