Handsome and I took a walk around the park yesterday, which in and of itself is neither noteworthy nor unusual.
What was unusual was the group of strangely clad individuals nerf-sword fighting in the wooded area on the hill above the lake. We are assuming they were rehearsing for the Texas Renaissance Festival, because they carried the aforementioned nerf-swords and several crudely painted shields. And they wore knee-breeches and tall boots and doublets and puffy shirts and stuff. Except that one chick in the jester pants and bikini top.
A quarter mile later we encountered an odd group of middle aged men with their radio-controlled flying machines. Little miniature helicopters and planes tricked out with smoke kits and performing aerial acrobatics.
A little while later, we passed a large pavilion being outfitted with a full band and eight huge speakers. The ladies in attendance had covered the entire shelter with baby blue and white crepe paper decorations. It was probably preparation for a quinceaños party. On a school night.
Somehow we missed the disc golf tournament that had occupied most of the park, closing the walk trails, from Friday to Sunday afternoon. But we did not miss the RV sale-a-thon being conducted in the ball-park parking lot. Imagine a sea of giant, shiny, new RVs and giant, not-so-shiny, not-so-new people. And a million semi-deflated balloons.
And me and Handsome in our own little universe, making up stories about the strangers in the park. Modern-day socio-anthropologists.