Hey kids,
A couple of festivals in the past week or so got us off our keisters and out of the house. A couple days ago, Jake, you and I lit out by ourselves and headed for Taylor Creek for the Lake Tahoe Kokanee Salmon Festival. There's a lovely little trail that winds down the hill towards the creek, and then an underground viewing chamber at the bottom where you can actually see the Salmon spawning.
You really showed an interest in the trees and the meadows and trails and such. You're such a good little hiker. Slow as shit, but that's all right. Easier to keep an eye on you.
The actual festivities took place at the end of the trail loop, with crafts and free coloring books and such, and your new friend Sammy the Salmon.
I didn't know how you would react to Sammy when we approached him. Maybe I thought you would run around behind me and cower and point. But you ran right up to him and practically molested him. I couldn't get you off of him! You kissed on him and hugged on him and followed him when he finally tried to walk away. We made three separate trips around the tiny festival and you kept pulling me back around to mack on poor Sammy. You are one weird kid. Lovable, but weird.
Okay, here's what's totally messed up about the Salmon Festival: eating sammy for lunch.
The entire festival is permeated with the smell of grilled salmon, which under normal circumstances, is one of my favorite foods in all the world. But after an educational jaunt down to the stream to see them up close and personal, after getting down and dirty with Sammy himself, it was a bit disheartening to see people walking around with big steaming platefuls of the celebrity of the day. The ads for the event were sure to state that all salmon served were flown in from the Northwest, and not from Taylor Creek itself, but still... ewg.
So where did we wind up? Where should any sane person wind up when they drive all the way up to that particular side of the Lake?
Yay! Izzy's Burger Spa! Only the bestest, numero uno burgers in Tahoe! We shared a burger and a frings basket before heading home to daddy and your sister. I think they sat around and watched football, poor things. You made out like a bandit, with all sorts of coloring books, salmon memorabilia and a t-shirt. But best of all, a tattoo of your one true sweetheart:
Weekend before last, we all went to the Genoa Candy Dance and had Indian Tacos. What I mean to say is, we went to the Candy Dance and had Indian Tacos. Whatever. Nana and Papa shopped and such, but I had eyes only for Indian Tacos. Food of the frickin' gods!
I didn't get a whole lot of photos that day cuz the batteries in the camera gave out. But I made sure to try and capture the essence of the Indian Tacos.
Okay yeah, it's just taco stuff. But it's taco stuff set atop a pillowy, deep-fried creation called Indian Fry Bread. Good stuff. I understand there are about 500 crafts booths and several stages with live entertainment at the Candy Dance. And lots of candy. Like I said before... whatev.
But what Festivus is complete without an Airing of Grievances. Here's my grievance. Your Nana and I do not get along anymore. We have nothing to say to each other, and when you put us in a room alone together (which doesn't happen often), you can hear the wind whistling atop Mt. Rose, 50 miles away. When we do "talk," it's often just me sitting and listening to her talk about Oprah. Here is a snippet of our phone conversation yesterday (which made me cranky for the rest of the day):
Me: Jake and I went to the Salmon Festival yesterday, and I baked a huge wedding cake!
Her: [two seconds of silence] I wanted to call you Friday and tell you who I saw on Oprah, blah blah blah blah blah. [ad nauseum]
She went on for way too long, then I tried to get a word in edgewise, she talked over me, then shouted "whaaaat?" and I said never mind and told her I had to go and hung up. It was a Festivus-worthy Feat of Strength to not yell at her, "What grandma in her right mind would NOT ASK wtf a Salmon Festival is? Or express surprise that her daughter has just baked a wedding cake, and maybe even ask who is getting married!!!"
So there. Airing of Grievances is over. While Nana and Papa were here, you and your sister had a grand old time with them, and I was glad that they were here for you guys. And that's all I have to say about that.
Oh, and that wedding cake? Flesh-colored. Like a dildo:
But it's a practice cake, and I have one more chance to get it right. Also, bubbles in the fondant. Yeah, there's a bit of trouble-shooting still going on, but we're almost there. Really, Auntie L!
Okay, time for bed. Sleep tight, all. Love you.
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