SuperEggplant

When we were looking for houses a few years back, Peter was adamant about not wanting to live on an “event street,” a street that hosts various gatherings or has parades or anything that requires the residents to do something. Well, he did not get his wish, because we live on an event street. Every year, on the second Saturday of December, the Vine Street Victorian Showcase hits town. They block off Vine Street from 8th to 21st for the night and have various performers and activities about every other house. We live smack dab in the middle of it all. This means we are ‘strongly encouraged’ to decorate the house with Christmas lights and to host something. For the past few years we have had Songs by Stephanie in our front yard. Next door they had the Snow King and Queen, a couple of houses down they had some rock band, and across the street they had Santa’s Phoneline, storytelling, and the booth for lost kids. It is really something else. They estimate that some 25,000 people attend.
Last year was the first year the event got rained out. It began as normal, but it began to POUR shortly after the event started, and they had to shut things down. Rain was gushing down the streets like creeks, and it was so windy that people were getting drenched. Unfortunately, last year was when we decided to have sort of an open house so people could drop by. This is how much food I made:

Hardly anyone came, so I had a lot of food left over. This year I made two batches of cookies and some apple cider and called it a day.
Remember those alpacas? Well, the alpaca lady brings a few alpacas down for the showcase every year! Here they are in all their nighttime blurry glory:

They were very cute but rightly suspicious of all the little hands reaching out to try to touch them.

I know it’s impossible, but I feel like I have a croissant allergy. I had one this morning, and shortly after eating it, my head started to hurt, and I felt really cruddy and had to take a nap. All day I have felt icky. The last time I ate a croissant was the day I left Portland, and, well, let’s just say I left the croissant behind in Portland.
Yesterday I met an alpaca farmer. She is quite obsessed with alpacas (and with figure skating, but that is another story). I bought a couple of little skeins of alpaca yarn from her. She is trying to convince me that spinning is a hobby I cannot live without.