“Do you want to go to the Square?” I asked my daughter. We were spending time together, which mainly consisted of us getting a treat (to qualify, it had to be sweet) and me admiring her skills on the electric scooter she’d recently gotten for her birthday. The weather, however, could care less, and a sprinkle turned into serious rain that, based on prognosis, came to stay for hours. As we contemplated our plans, hiding under the tree, which afforded some protection, I made a suggestion – downtown square. Elizabeth reluctantly agreed to the Square because there were so many exciting and unique things sold that she knew she’d want to have them purchased for her, and the chances of that were little. She hasn’t yet learned the satisfaction of ‘window shopping.’
As we drove up, we realized that the Poppy Festival, a yearly occurrence that I thought I’d missed, was going on. Every nook and cranny had a booth. The rain kept pouring. Thunder and Lightning were having a heated discussion, evidenced by a startling boom from Thunder, which Lightning answered with equal ferocity.
“I was certain I had two umbrellas that lived in the car,” I explained to Elizabeth as I crawled all over the car. My search was not rewarded.
“It’s okay, Mom. I don’t mind getting wet,” she answered cheerfully, though I made her ‘take shelter.’
County music was blaring. It was morning, and people were filing in, not deterred by rain. It would be impossible to describe all the interesting booths, artistry, and talent concentrated on the Square. Many of the vendors were local, but most seemed to have come from outside the bounds of Georgetown and as far south as Houston. Fifty thousand people attended the festival the day before, on Saturday. The storm, which swooped upon our little town at night, apparently damaged some of the electrical connections, and though some vendors fortified their booths for the night, not all fared well.
We stopped at a lovely Apothecary Blends, where they sold their tea blends in…test tubes, sporting blends with names like “The Poisoned Apple,” “Mermaid Lagoon,” and “Elixir of Dreams.” All teas were made in small batches with fresh ingredients. The booth had a somewhat otherworldly feel, and no wonder the teas had edible beverage glitter to “heighten your magickal tea experience.” Being a tea sort of person, I wanted to stay and explore the booth, but my daughter’s exploration ambition was going far beyond the tea booth. She was ready to get back into the torrential rain that poured with no mercy, Lightning and Thunder still settling their differences. Seeing her eagerness, the booth owner recommended one with baby opossums and a screech owl. Possessed by a new purpose, my daughter walked briskly, me shlepping beside her, trying to keep the umbrella above the both of us.
So we walked, plastered to each other to fit under the only umbrella I could find, ducking into each booth for a quick look and getting out of the rain for a brief moment.
We lingered at a booth where the artist converted old books into journals, retaining the original cover, a few pages of the story, or an entire story if the story was short, filling it in with blank pages to serve as a journal. Another booth offered caricature drawing services, though the artist was not in but promised to “be back in five minutes,” or so the sign said. Five minutes seemed like a long time under the circumstances, so we were back to being watered. I would have liked a drawing.
Next, we stopped at the Carvel Vintage booth from New Braunfels, which sported amazing lamps made from scrap metal, giving life to vintage, otherwise forgotten items in the most creative way. The creations made me think of the City of Ember book and Jules Verne novels.
Finally, we found the All Things Wild booth, a non-profit organization that rescues animals, rehabilitates them, and releases them back into the wild. Baby opossums were cute, but Sam, the screech owl, won our hearts. He’ll never go back into the wild as he was permanently blind in one eye and lives with one of the volunteers.
Our last booth featured jewelry made from silverware handles and antique silver spoons. I purchased a small pendant for Elizabeth and a Japanese silver sugar spoon (though not for sugar, but to portion out tea for my French press).
There was no agreement in sight between Thunder and Lightning. Sunday events were canceled, and the nature, once again, had the last word.
“I’m too cold and too wet,” squeaked Elizabeth, “and ready to go.” And so we did, both completely soaked, dreaming of a hot shower and a hot beverage.
The second umbrella was the first thing we saw when we got into the car. Black with a hot pink trim against the taupe interior of the car door, it stood out, impossible to miss.
How could I have missed this? I thought in bewilderment.
I heard nothing but Thunder for an answer.