I Blame Marie Sexton

As you are reading this, I am hurtling down I-75, on my way to Blissfest. And what, you ask, is Blissfest? An orgy? A psychotropic experience? Well, maybe, though probably not for me as The Kid is coming along.

No, Blissfest is a weekend long folk music festival at which one camps. In a tent. With port-a-potties. And they’re too far away for midnight potty needs.

Actually, when I’ve gone in the past (the far past, when I was much more enthusiastic about peeing outdoors) it’s been a wonderful experience. The music is good. The people are friendly…and exceedingly mellow (go figure, snicker) and I came home relaxed, sun kissed and happy. Of course those times *I* wasn’t the one putting up the tent.

So how is this Marie Sexton’s fault?

Well, I recently re-read her most excellent Promises, which reminded me of the equally excellent A to Z, in which the MC’s meet up at…a folk music festival. No sooner did I read them, than I got a “Happy Bliss” email from a friend from my mis-spent youth (HA! I was frighteningly stodgy) and I thought, “I must go! I shall see Jared and Matt, and Zach and (most especially) Angelo!” Because yeah, they’re real people.

So, hopefully I’ll be back Sunday night tanned and relaxed, and sharing pictures and stories. (No anticipatory pics as I’m posting this from the most miraculous Nook)

In the mean time, pray that I don’t end up with poison ivy, or ticks, or – God forbid – earwigs! (Remind me to tell you the earwig story sometime. Did you know their bodies are hinged, and when they scuttle across the ceiling…?)


  1. OMG, I’m learning to hate WP, even though it’s what I use. I leave comments and then it makes me log in, but somehow I never have my own password right, which confuses me to no end.

    Anyway… what I meant to say was:

    OMG! I love this! Did you see my boys? Our Folks Fest is going on right now. I totally missed it this year, which sucks. Tonight is the first Broncos (preseason) home game though, so I’m guessing I’ll see my boys there.

  2. Also, I’m right there with you on thinking earwigs are the foulest creatures on this green Earth. *shudder*

    • I *know*, right? My very first apartment the air conditioning unit got infested. You haven’t lived until you’ve watched earwigs weave through the air vents. Guh! And they DON’T DIE! Like you can drown them in pesticide and then pound them with a Maglite, and they’ll get up and keep crawling around. Even my cat, who sees spiders as an extra special treat, avoided them. Clearly they’re evil.

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