Happy Birthday, C!

What a weekend!

It's the annual Harvest Jazz & Blues Festival. We were bracing for the leftovers from Hurricane Ophelia. And it was our wonderful friend "C"'s birthday.

In spite of concerns about the approach of Ophelia, Friday was gorgeous - warm and sunny. After work we gathered at a local pub to listen to the blues in the Tannery.



(We weren't sure what the short tents were for. Theories ranged from "People in lawnchairs" to "children" to "pets" to "the Welsh". "Watch it," I said. "C's people are Welsh." Why is no-one concerned about insulting the Welsh? Why? Why? Anyway, we never did find out what the short tents were for. Around 7:30 pm, people suddenly started showing up in groups of 4 and spiriting them away. No word on whether those people were Welsh.)

Anyway, it was muy early, but the music started around 6 pm. We sat on the patio as the first performers warmed up the crowd. By 10:30 that night, you could barely move in this square.

A shot of me and C enjoying the evening sun. I don't remember the last time I felt this content and happy.



Here's a shot of another of the pubs in the Tannery area. This is Dolan's (hey, Peterson - note the flag flying proudly over the front door). This gives an idea of the crowds you see around town for the festival, although you have to remember this was very early in the evening, around 6:30 or so.



By Saturday, however, Ms. Ophelia had arrived in town and it was just pouring. It's amazing how different the rain from those tropical storms feels from our usual rain - the raindrops hit like bullets, and the intensity of the downpour is truly daunting. However, C and Husband and I have made a tradition out of attending the Classic Blues Happy Hour Show that happens at 6 pm on Saturday every festival (Buddy Miles, I think, would have to be the pinnacle of these shared experiences). And, as I said, this year, the show fell on C's birthday, so a downpour of all the water in the Gulf Stream wasn't going to keep us home.

This year's featured performer was Colin Linden. I can't tell you what it felt like, to close my eyes and sway back and forth, letting that music wash over me. You don't know how much you missed music, I told Husband, until you get it back. Even when you're missing it, you have no idea how much you miss it.

ronnie