Checked out the winter version of the Sawdust Festival tonight—it actually opens tomorrow, but I've got connections, so there you go.
Sister Annie has a booth there, bathed in deep red.
The fire chief made her take down the curtains. "They are fireproof," she protested.
"Don't care," said the chief. "Take 'em down."
Sister Annie has a booth there, bathed in deep red.
The fire chief made her take down the curtains. "They are fireproof," she protested.
"Don't care," said the chief. "Take 'em down."
Ran into Tracy Daly, who has a booth for her pottery. She was with her mom and a friend. Nice people.
Tracy's stuff looks great.
The show will last for four weekends, I think.
Annie in her booth. Reminded me of Madame Zelda's Fortune Telling/Love Potion Salon.
Or maybe a brothel.
(She'll display her stuff tomorrow. Jewelry, I mean. She's into chains.)
Here's Annie telling a friend's fortune. Probably X-rated. You know Annie.
I think my mom or dad made that black pot at left.
Yet another friend's booth. Cool jewelry and great wool hats.
The grounds looked great: a maze of cute and sometimes garish structures winding up the side of a hill amongst eucalyptus and other trees.
"Yeah, this is a big improvement from the old days," I said, "when they just spread steer manure on the ground. When it rained, it could get nasty."
"Really?" asked Tracy.
"Of course not."
I just made that shit up.
Saw this fun glass thing. Some kind of camel or varmint.
Saw some hippies, too.
Laguna Beach, man.
Hope it don't rain on 'em.
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