Countdown: 9
Breakfast:  Eggs
Lunch:  Czech dinner at the festival
Dinner:  1/2 lb. fava, feta, couscous salad
Snacks:  Lordy
So, anyway, today was the Czech festival up nort
 and it was fun.  We were there too long, as it is a teeny, tiny, like 
really little festival and we could have done everything three times and
 still left at least two and a half hours earlier than scheduled.  But, 
it was the first time and no one really knew what to expect.  
The
 food was a mixed bag.  This festival is a fund-raiser, much like church
 festivals are.  Lunch was expensive, but delicious.  Maybe 1/3 ounces 
of roast pork, really, three small potato dumplings (like tiny-small), a
 tablespoon of gravy, slightly more than that of canned corn kernels, a weensy cup-let of cole
 slaw (delicious), a large serving spoon of sauerkraut (very delicious),
 and the smallest slices of rye bread that I have ever seen, even 
smaller than those little loaves of rye bread meant for hors d'oeuvres, 
but absolutely wonderful.  Might have been the best rye bread that I 
have ever had.  It was like a crazy-quilt of a meal, and still managed 
to be very satisfying and very delicious.  Crazy.  I also had a Czech 
beer, a lager and it was very good, too.  I wish that I drank more often
 so that I could have had a second one and not have worried about 
falling asleep.
Then, I went outside to see the culture barn and 
it was cool.  There was a woman with the most insanely glorious and 
glittery jewelry and I wanted every single piece.  I nearly succumbed to
 a small, mostly purple stones tiara.  Lordy.  I love tiaras, have a few
 cheap ones and even wear them sometimes, because, well, sometimes it is
 just a tiara day.  I used to wear them often when I worked at the 
bookstore and the shelter.  I might have to start doing that again.  
Maybe.  Oh, maybe not.  It just makes me look foolish.
The blacksmith guy was cool and old and only started blacksmithing
 when he retired from his real job, which was being a Methodist 
minister.  I took some super cool pictures of the tiny space that made 
me so happy when I looked at them later.  
The volunteer 
firefighters were cooking and selling sandwiches outside, but there was 
no room at the tummy-inn for more food, so I listened to some of the 
musicians.  Oh, the music.  It was wonderful, every bit of it, the mass,
 the old guy on the porch with his accordion and electronic 
keyboard/synthesizer thing, the various choral groups and bands in the 
little stage barn and the sort of Big Band-style polka band in the the 
big building where lunch was served and kolaches sold.  Everywhere I went, there was loud, happy music.  It was glorious.
Then,
 I saw someone with ice cream.  Oh, the humanity...premium ice cream, 
one dollar cones, two dollar bowls of any kind of ice cream and fresh 
strawberry sauce sundaes.  I had one.  It was great, but made me really 
thirsty and gave me a tummy ache all the way back home.  I think that it
 might have been worth it, but I am afraid to test my glucose level, so I
 guess that says something right there.
Then, I arrived home.  
You know, there has to be some thing or aspect about me that has turned 
me into a sad experiences magnet.  I mean, I am the nearly constant 
recipient of all things sad and woeful, so it has to be me.  It just has
 to.  I might have come to this realization much sooner if sadness was a
 part of all of my relationships, but since it is only one...with the 
addition of that other person from a month or so ago...I just, you know,
 never was able to see the big picture about why I am on the receiving 
end of so much meanness and snarkiness and, you know, the whole sad thing.
I
 know that I could stand up for myself more around here, but that has 
always escalated the tension and garnered more, unwanted and unpleasant 
attention.  I should just be brave and take a stand about at least one 
thing.  I could do that.  I could.  I mean, I probably will not, but I 
could.  Anyway, I am going to try a couple of things, you know, just to 
alter the dynamic when stuff happens.  I really have nothing to lose 
anymore.  I could do this.  I will try one thing and see what happens, 
and even if it does not work, I will try it again, because it is a good 
idea and worth a little experimentation.  I am old now, I have worked 
hard all of my life, I do my best to be a good person.  I should be 
mostly happy now.  I am worth the risk, you know?  So, no more running 
away like a little rabbit or being as quiet as a mouse where this person
 is concerned.  I could do that.
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