Strawberry Festival


One of the nice things about small towns is that they celebrate big.  The town of Bedford, Ohio calls its citizens to come together several times during the course of the late spring through early autumn with an assortment of festivals.

Diane and I sat across the table from each other in front of a gazebo where recorded music wafted over our heads, and people squeezed through the aisles carrying everything from sausage sandwiches to perogies.  She had polished off a Stromboli and I a bowl of pasta and meatballs and now we were digging into strawberry sundaes.  This being the Strawberry Festival, we could at least indulge in some kind of strawberry desert. The disappointment was that the strawberries were from packages of frozen berries, not fresh, and instead of real whipped cream they topped the sundaes with cool whip.  I told Diane I try to avoid cool whip as I think it is like eating plastic.

The weather was perfect for being outdoors, a mild high sixty to a little over seventy degrees, a wonderful respite after the ninety-two degrees yesterday. We strolled around the grounds and Diane stopped to listen to a sales pitch on bathroom refinishing.  When I went back to let her know I was going to sit down the sales lady boomed out that she was Cindy’s daughter, my hair stylist.  I thought she looked familiar!

Normally I enjoy perusing all the homemade soaps and creams, but to Diane’s surprise I steered clear of that booth since I still have a supply from the last time I bought some at a pre-Christmas craft fair.

We looked carefully at each booth of hand crafted jewelry and stopped finally at a family from Peru where the mother was working wire into chains and carefully fixing bits of stone into lovely lacy designs, the daughter was the bookkeeper, handling the sales and the dad hovered about explaining, showing this or that piece to prospective customers, and flirting as necessary to convince the client that she really needed a particular piece for her own.  To Diane and I he assured that upon the purchase of our 1,000th item, he would give us each a ticket to Peru.  I said he’d better still be in business when we bought item number 999.   Diane and I each began our journey to Peru with a delicate necklace and she chose a matching bracelet while I picked out a little ring.


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