Last night we went into town for one of our county’s annual ‘festivals’. There was an auction and a Bluegrass Band and people brought lawn chairs to sit outside. A friend of mine was there, nursing a sore shoulder and arm from a car accident she had right in town, the other day. Her car was totaled, but thankfully, she came out of the accident with just the pulled muscles. My daughter wanted to know what a funnel cake was, so we asked my friend about it and she tried to explain. A short while later my friend excused herself and she bought one for us all to share. What a sweet surprise!
A little later, while I was waiting in line to get some popcorn for my son, I ran into a guy I see every night on my paper route. We got to talking and he said that he was loving this little get together in the middle of town, because people don’t do things like this in Phoenix. He told me that his mom’s family are all from Arizona and his Dad’s family is from Kentucky. He and his brother were raised in Arizona, but they moved here 2 years ago with their Dad. I told him that my mom was born here, but her family moved to Chicago where she met my Dad and I wasborn and raised in Chicago, but for some reason, it seems that eventually everyone makes it back to Kentucky.
And here we all are, listening to Bluegrass music and eating funnel cakes.