Huzzah!

This weekend marks the beginning of the annual Kansas City Renaissance Festival. It's one of the biggest in the Midwest - I'm not sure how big Ren Fests are on the coasts - I'm not sure if I imagine they would be bigger or smaller. Swilling dark beer in the middle of the woods seems more like something we German- and Scandinavian-descended fly-over state types might like to do, but folks are weird on the coasts. I'm sure the New York Ren Fest has a lot of takers, for instance.

My beloved and I have attended almost every year we've lived here, despite our better intentions. Despite the fact that after paying $15/head to get in, it still costs a dollar to walk through a poorly constructed clothesline maze. Despite the fact that wares in the shops remind me of things in the drama kids' lockers in high school. Despite the fact that I've never cared for dragons, plebians or knights. And despite the fact that every year it rains right before we attend Ren Fest, turning the entire village into a swill-pit that not even a good quaff of ale can make you forget.

My sister and her boyfriend are coming in from Chicago this weekend to see us and, more importantly, the little angel. I recall last year seeing a hapless couple at the Ren Fest attempting to push a stroller through three-inch-deep mud. I recall (as I was pregnant at the time) thinking I WILL NEVER GET MY STROLLER THAT DIRTY ON PURPOSE. However, it does seem only appropriate to expose my favorite Chicagoans to a bit of good old country weirdness for the mere price of $11 and five cans of food. So, we will watch the weather report. My beloved threatened that if EVEN ONE DROP of rain falls on Saturday, we will not be attending on Sunday. There's a 40% chance. Stay tuned. Huzzah!