Winchester has a Town Day, which is the cutest thing in the world. On Friday night they have a local band play in front of the fire station. It was super warm and we brought cookies and sat across the street in a grassy park and listened. Well, sort of. Edie couldn't keep still; she loves to dance. So she grabbed a cookie and became the band's biggest fan.
They played bluesy covers and my jam, The Erie Canal song (low bridge, everybody down . . .).
I had to leave early to meet a friend for dinner, but James said that Edie tired herself out with the dancing and cookie eating and fell asleep right away.
Saturday we went the Rotary Club's pancake breakfast (we're friends with the president, oh la la). They were almost done by the time we got to (I had a long run, which I started at 6:30 but was still pouring sweat by the time I finshed 6 miles), but they still had pancakes and were giving away balloons by the time we left.
We wandered around the town center, where I bought a strawberry lemonade basil popsicle and we watched kids running through the sprinklers of mass-decontamination hazmat tent they'd set up for just that purpose.
Here's the thing: I loved watching the band on Friday night. It was warm and fun and not too crowded, what I want everything to be. And I was like, yes, this is what I want events (concerts, outdoor movies, fireworks) in New York to be like. And then I was like, but they're not, but they're constant. Winchester does this once a year. It's perfect, but it's once a year. And one is not better or worse, they're just different. There are benefits and drawbacks to living anywhere; I'm glad that I'm happening upon Winchester's benefits.
Thanks, summer. So far, so good.