the festival

And by "festival," I mean our town's annual Apple Harvest Festival. (Emphasis on APPLE, not HARvest. Don't think we didn't hear you, out-of-towners.) It's the last weekend and the weather was uncommonly sunny, so I went downtown today to check out the craft booths and grab a few snacks.

Apparently, so did the rest of the known world. Sunburn and cranky, jostling crowds are not the best circumstances for taking photos. Or walking. Wish we'd documented it Friday night instead, when it was mostly random gangs of middle schoolers and people gathered to applaud the festival's version of American Idol. (I stuck around that only long enough to hear a contestant change the lyrics of Gaga's "You and I" to "My cool [our town] guy". Haha, no. The Connecticut radio version is lulzy enough, thanks.)

The only thing I ended up buying (besides food) is a bubble-blowing gun from one of the vendors. It's not that there weren't some nice things there (a beautiful carved puzzle box, some pretty coral pendants, hand-painted wooden Halloween decorations), it's that I'm so super broke this week! Might have made an exception if the pewter guy had been there. My mother has a whole collection of little pewter animals we've picked up over the years from previous Apple Fests. Haven't seen that booth in a few, though.

So long, festival season. Unless tomorrow I can't stand it, and just have to run out for one last enormous, cheese and sour cream drenched, fair-style baked potato. (What's that? I can stop any time I want to!)

WARDROBE:

skirt/top/shoes: Charlotte Russe

undershirt/tote: Aerie

sunglasses: gift

CAMERA:

Laura