I'm back from the Shrewsbury Renaissance Faire. Whew, all I did was lead the opening and closing parades, and I'm still sore and tired Monday Morning. Note to Self: use a tabor with a beater instead of a dumbec when drumming to save your hands.
I was pleased, perplexed, and grateful to be able to bring my style of energy to the event.
Saturday, I rose early, and was pulling out of the driveway about quarter to six to head to the Faire. The sky was purpling in the east and Venus dazzled a dark sky. As I drove, the sky lightened, and stray wisps of fog drifted across Highway 99 from the mint fields. The sun rose and painted the Cascades and fields crimson. Westward, the coastal range was a reservoir of fog, and once I got into them, the sun and clear skies were hidden. I hoped the fog would stay and keep the day cooler, but I knew it would clear and heat up.
I checked into the Participants' Gate by seven-thirty. One of the bubble wands Mark keeps in the car made itself prominent, so I took it, walked, let the breeze coax huge bubbles out of the wand, and made the rounds around the Faire. Most of the merchant stalls were closed, with merchants just beginning to set up and unpack their wares. I sent bubbles on the wind, and that was the best way to meet old friends.