About halfway through, Julian decided he'd had his fill of vintage, miniature horses, the burgeoning sun, and crowds. And melted down. Even a fresh croissant, our normal bribe currency, wasn't enough to distract him. I made one last stop to pick up a vintage dark green, chevron-emblazoned leather handbag I'd seen on the way in, only to find it already gone.
Dear That Person,
Please love that purse excessively, and take care of it. I wanted it so, so badly.
And then, then I got home and realized I hadn't even taken my lens cap off. Once. I felt lazy, too easily overwhelmed, and like I'd failed my one big goal for the autumn- capture my favorite event in images.
With a growing (and inappropriately disproportionate) feeling of despair over my dashed plans, I poutingly packed up my microwave cobbler, scowled once more at my defunct oven, and made off for a barbecue with company that considerably brightened my day, and mood. Plus, Tony got to kick back and socialize with the other misters a bit, which always makes me feel less guilty for eating cakes and playing with babies and gossiping every day and getting to call it work.
Perspective is a funny thing. Happy Be Late for Something Day!
p.s. Mamas and papas, hop on over the Anne with an 'e' for a terrific giveaway!!