I Am a Rock, I Am an Island…

Well, at least Husband is.

Over the weekend, we went with some friends to the local Irish Festival.  We had a blast!  Then again, what isn’t to enjoy about food, friends, and beer, oh and the weather was amazing!  Also turns out that Son loves to watch the ladies.  Dancing ladies, to be exact.  He even requested, “Let’s watch the girls dancing!”  Not to worry, though, these girls were of the Irish Dance schools from around the region.  Most of these girls were school-aged, and wore sparkly, brightly coloured dresses.  I don’t know if it was the costumes, the music, or just the girls that he liked to watch, but the rest of us got bored, and I think Son could’ve stayed there all day.

Strangely, though, the festival wasn’t limited to Irish things.  Nope.  Maybe it’s this way at all Irish Festivals, but ours had a little Scottish Village, and lots of Medeval/Scarborough Fair stuff going on; I wasn’t always sure of the connection, but it kept it interesting to say the least.  And we learned some things.

We learned that Husband, MY Husband, is an awesome hunter.  At the Archery Booth, he managed to kill enough game to feed us for a week!  And he’s never so much as picked up a bow and arrow.  He hit the deer twice, the pig twice, and the turkey, all in the neck.  Of course, these were all styrofoam, but I was just as impressed.

We also learned that Husband comes from his own Scottish Clan, who happen to inhabit an island off the coast of Mainland, in the sea between Ireland and Scotland.  Now you get the title, huh.  That must be why he was so awesome with the bow, he has to be self-sufficient.

It really was a lot of fun, and definitely a repeat.  Here’s to heritage, friends, and, well, beer.


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