Windmill Fest 2019: Bearded dragons and pooing poodles
(Note: This was written up Saturday evening, but the internet crapped out and I was unable to post it.)
This has been a busy week, capped off by another Saturday out in the sun. The rain has gone away and left behind warmth, and it's getting kicked up a notch--we're supposed to be in the 90s for the next week, going into the upper 90s at that toward the end of next week. Phew. I should pull out my skirt and make sure it still fits--I'll probably be wearing it to work at some point.
But today, today was Windmill Fest! Mom and I look forward to it every year. We never set a time to go, but both of us figured early, maybe 9-ish. We both had to run to the bank, and I ended up being a bit poky, so it was probably around 9:30 before we got there. Farmers Market first--I wanted to see what sort of produce they had, and mom likes to check out the baked goods. I ended up getting tart cherries and a small basket of raspberries. They were so fragile that the raspberries stayed in their little basket when getting put in a bag; the cherries got dumped right in their bag. Gosh, those cherries were so pretty; they were translucent in the sun. I'd kept walking down the way to see who all was there before turning around and going back to that stand, and panicked briefly because all the cherries appeared to be gone. They'd just been moved, likely out of the sun, so I made sure to get in line right away in case they did disappear. They're bright red tart cherries. I ate some of them plain when I got home, but they'd likely be good with a little sugar and some yogurt to help mellow the tartness.
Mom wanted to keep looking, so I walked over to the stage across the river. This year, the Frog Lady was doing a demo prior to the pet parade. I got there in time to see various snakes, including a couple that were considered albino. At the end, she invited people to come up and pet some of the animals, including a few turtles/tortoises in a small pen. The one guy was huge, probably two feet across. Mom had joined me by then and we found a nearby bench (she was in the shade, I was not) and waited for the Frog Lady to finish and the parade to start.
One of the contestants may have been a bit nervous. Shortly before the parade, this random guy goes, we have a diarrhea situation. At the front of the line, part of this family with three dogs and a blue lizard, a black poodle was performing the front part of its breed. Oh, dear. And, worse, one of the teenage girls with said dog had ended up stepping in the mess. Lovely. The park district gal who always helps with this got a cleanup guy involved. He was pretty cool about the whole thing, saying he had three dogs and he knows how it goes. He had on latex gloves and brought a bucket, a roll of paper towels, and some sort of aerosol spray to help clean up the mess. One of the owners, an older female, was doing what she could with doggie bags, but because it, uh, wasn't entirely solid, she wasn't having the easiest time with it. It didn't help that the dog kept going a couple times. Eventually a hose came out. After a bit, the older man with the group suggested perhaps the dog had overheated (it was already pretty warm out) and should go to the kiddie pool set up for the dogs to cool down. The pool was right next to me, and when the dog walked over, I noticed...something suspicious on one of the dog's back paws. Uh, I don't think you want your dog to step in that and contaminate the pool. The teen girl who'd brought the dog over went back to her family, where they poured bottled water onto the paw to clean it off. Oh, what a mess. That's a first for me, seeing something like that happen. But, well, it's the pet parade--be prepared for anything.
Otis the dog with all the spots did not show up this year; he'd have had two challengers to his "most spots" title (which isn't a legit category any longer, I think). One dog, its owner was trying to get it to go in the pool, but kept jumping over the pool instead. I said we should drag the pool over to the show area and that could be its talent. One dog was dressed as a cheerleader and we were told she cheers loudly when the Bears score a touchdown; she won best costume, beating out the family decked out in red flannel. Another dog avoiding the pool was the part boxer, part lab; guess we know what the bigger part is! There was a ferret, who did get in the water. And then we had not one, not two, but three bearded dragons--all in a row, even, and they did NOT know each other, which was the amazing part. One of them won "most unusual pet"; I forget its full name, but it ended in -zilla, which the little boy owner yelled into the microphone. There was this little mixed breed, a maltipoo maybe, whose name tag read "Andy." I spotted the tag while they waited their turn and it made me think of my mom, who loves Andy Cohen. Well, Andy, his owner, and their other dog came and sat by us after the parade while waiting for the results; Andy ended up winning "best kisser," and we got to watch the young-ish owner try and pose him for pictures to send to her mom. One of the funny moments came when a gal went up with this really pretty dog, an Alaskan Malamute, and it turned out she was dog-sitting for it. The gal then entered the dog for "best kisser." Foltos was like, uh, does the dog's owner know you're entering their dog into this parade? The gal went, no! ...Okay. And then we found out the gal had known the dog for about six months, so it's not like she just got it yesterday, but still. Okay, whatever.
Mom had walked around the craft fair a bit while the actual marching part of the parade happened, and she came across a traveling boutique, like a food truck for clothes. She thought it was really cool and wanted me to check it out, but I never care for the craft fair and decided against it. So, when we left the pet parade, that was it for the fest proper. We went back to River Street because I wanted to stop by the Tea Tree Shop for a bottle of oil. I have my lava bead bracelets I made that I'd like to use as reusable bug bands, and I wanted an oil that would repel bugs and that I could stand smelling. Mom has an aromatherapy book that listed about a dozen possible oils for that, and I took a picture of it before leaving the house today. Then it was a matter of seeing what oils were there (not all on the list were), sniffing them, and picking one out. I went with lemongrass. I almost chose citronella since that's a known repellent, but it's so strong. They're not all that different to me, but the lemongrass is milder. So, at some point, I'll give that a shot. I'm hoping it works.
While I sniffed around, mom walked down the street to the Salt Escape. She's been there before and even got a punch card for something like 5 or 10 visits, and she offered to let me use one of her trips; that was back when she'd first gone. She's seen some improvements to her health since going, like her one trip cleared up her eczema, and what the heck; I can go. They're hour-long appointments, so she booked us for noon, which was super convenient. Once we finished at the store, we went over. We did have to wait about 15-20 minutes, but that gave us time to use the washroom and put on our socks. You can go barefoot, but I preferred the white socks--and I was already wearing black no-show socks with my gym shoes. It's a no cell phone zone in the cave, so people were locking them up in little lockers. I, uh, broke protocol by keeping mine in my purse, which subsequently was in my bag under the stuff we'd gotten from the farmers market, plus I keep it on vibrate anyway, so...yeah. Contraband. Mom was super anxious about the visit. She was first in line, not that there really was a line, and she kept asking me, where do you want to sit? Do you want to sit together? I hope we get a chair. Mom, seriously, it's fine. You pick where you want to sit and I'll go next to you. I'd seen a picture of the inside and it made it seem like there was a window, and it was bright and sunny in there. Turns out the photographer must have been in the back of the room and the door must've been open, because it was actually pretty dark. There was some ambient light, but not much. There are eight chairs, four on either side, plus this sort of ledge on one side with pillows that can fit a couple more people. The floor is covered in food-grade salt, which we were welcome to pick up and rub on certain body parts to make them feel better (I opted out of that). We could get noise-canceling headphones if we wanted. Mom declined, but I took a pair just in case and I did end up using them. Alas, they were more noise-reducing than canceling for me; I could still hear the waves background sound, as well as the tinkling from this tiny fountain the guy brought in. Neither mom nor I cared for the fountain (she said it hadn't been there in the past) because it was more bathroom-inducing than relaxing. I could also still hear people shifting in their chairs, which were zero gravity ones. Mom and I were the only ones on our side, and all four chairs across from us were taken, plus one girl went with the futon pillow ledge. We were told that, while the temperature in there was currently comfortable, as our blood pressure slowed, we'd likely get cold, and there were blankets on all our chairs. I never used mine but toward the end, I could feel a shiver emanating out of my body, radiating from my center to my extremities, and that happened a number of times--not constant, but certainly not just once or twice. I was wearing a T-tank top and shorts, though; it was in the 90s outside. There was one thing the headphones nearly eliminated, and that was this hum in the room. I wonder if it had anything to do with the glowing salt walls--they were made of brick-shaped salt cubes. There was this nebulous wave light projecting in one corner, to my left, and there was this green square coming down from the ceiling and projecting against the far wall to my right. Mom had picked the first chair on the right closest to the door, and I was next to her. For the most part I closed my eyes and just let my mind wander, but every so often my eyes would open. I'm not sure what all I got out of it, but I'm glad I did it. And my phone stayed quiet in my bag, which was hanging on a hook by the door. Phew.
Once we finished, mom was ready for lunch, so we went over to Panera. We each got a pick-two; she got soup and a sandwich, and I got a flatbread and mac & cheese, plus a cheese brittany pastry. From there, it was our annual pilgrimage to Bird is the Word. Mom really liked this red and blue bird and was able to hold it for a bit. It was smaller than the macaw but still a good-sized bird. In the next cage were smaller green birds, slightly bigger than cockatiels, and one was able to roam freely. We figured out that that bird was the little troublemaker, as it kept hopping on the red bird's cage and tried to play with that bird's toys from the top, and the red bird was like, uh, MY toy! And kept nipping at the green one. Mom then got the green bird on her finger, but he quickly climbed up her shoulder and didn't want to come down. I managed to get him onto my finger, but then he tried climbing up my arm. I didn't want that because I was wearing sunscreen, so we got him back on top of the red bird's cage, and eventually he flew across the way onto someone else's cage. Oh, you're a little stinker, aren't you? Meanwhile, I had fun watching the macaw in the corner crack open, then eat a walnut. And that's why you don't want your fingers near a large bird's beak.
From there, we went up to the library. Mom did some browsing and we poked our heads into the used book sale, but neither of us needs anything. I stepped out first; she came out second. After that, we were both hot and tired and headed for home, where we discovered dad up on a ladder, having trimmed the big tree out front, as well as one of the bushes. We've been chilling at home since, glad to be able to rest in a cool house.
This has been a busy week, capped off by another Saturday out in the sun. The rain has gone away and left behind warmth, and it's getting kicked up a notch--we're supposed to be in the 90s for the next week, going into the upper 90s at that toward the end of next week. Phew. I should pull out my skirt and make sure it still fits--I'll probably be wearing it to work at some point.
But today, today was Windmill Fest! Mom and I look forward to it every year. We never set a time to go, but both of us figured early, maybe 9-ish. We both had to run to the bank, and I ended up being a bit poky, so it was probably around 9:30 before we got there. Farmers Market first--I wanted to see what sort of produce they had, and mom likes to check out the baked goods. I ended up getting tart cherries and a small basket of raspberries. They were so fragile that the raspberries stayed in their little basket when getting put in a bag; the cherries got dumped right in their bag. Gosh, those cherries were so pretty; they were translucent in the sun. I'd kept walking down the way to see who all was there before turning around and going back to that stand, and panicked briefly because all the cherries appeared to be gone. They'd just been moved, likely out of the sun, so I made sure to get in line right away in case they did disappear. They're bright red tart cherries. I ate some of them plain when I got home, but they'd likely be good with a little sugar and some yogurt to help mellow the tartness.
Mom wanted to keep looking, so I walked over to the stage across the river. This year, the Frog Lady was doing a demo prior to the pet parade. I got there in time to see various snakes, including a couple that were considered albino. At the end, she invited people to come up and pet some of the animals, including a few turtles/tortoises in a small pen. The one guy was huge, probably two feet across. Mom had joined me by then and we found a nearby bench (she was in the shade, I was not) and waited for the Frog Lady to finish and the parade to start.
One of the contestants may have been a bit nervous. Shortly before the parade, this random guy goes, we have a diarrhea situation. At the front of the line, part of this family with three dogs and a blue lizard, a black poodle was performing the front part of its breed. Oh, dear. And, worse, one of the teenage girls with said dog had ended up stepping in the mess. Lovely. The park district gal who always helps with this got a cleanup guy involved. He was pretty cool about the whole thing, saying he had three dogs and he knows how it goes. He had on latex gloves and brought a bucket, a roll of paper towels, and some sort of aerosol spray to help clean up the mess. One of the owners, an older female, was doing what she could with doggie bags, but because it, uh, wasn't entirely solid, she wasn't having the easiest time with it. It didn't help that the dog kept going a couple times. Eventually a hose came out. After a bit, the older man with the group suggested perhaps the dog had overheated (it was already pretty warm out) and should go to the kiddie pool set up for the dogs to cool down. The pool was right next to me, and when the dog walked over, I noticed...something suspicious on one of the dog's back paws. Uh, I don't think you want your dog to step in that and contaminate the pool. The teen girl who'd brought the dog over went back to her family, where they poured bottled water onto the paw to clean it off. Oh, what a mess. That's a first for me, seeing something like that happen. But, well, it's the pet parade--be prepared for anything.
Otis the dog with all the spots did not show up this year; he'd have had two challengers to his "most spots" title (which isn't a legit category any longer, I think). One dog, its owner was trying to get it to go in the pool, but kept jumping over the pool instead. I said we should drag the pool over to the show area and that could be its talent. One dog was dressed as a cheerleader and we were told she cheers loudly when the Bears score a touchdown; she won best costume, beating out the family decked out in red flannel. Another dog avoiding the pool was the part boxer, part lab; guess we know what the bigger part is! There was a ferret, who did get in the water. And then we had not one, not two, but three bearded dragons--all in a row, even, and they did NOT know each other, which was the amazing part. One of them won "most unusual pet"; I forget its full name, but it ended in -zilla, which the little boy owner yelled into the microphone. There was this little mixed breed, a maltipoo maybe, whose name tag read "Andy." I spotted the tag while they waited their turn and it made me think of my mom, who loves Andy Cohen. Well, Andy, his owner, and their other dog came and sat by us after the parade while waiting for the results; Andy ended up winning "best kisser," and we got to watch the young-ish owner try and pose him for pictures to send to her mom. One of the funny moments came when a gal went up with this really pretty dog, an Alaskan Malamute, and it turned out she was dog-sitting for it. The gal then entered the dog for "best kisser." Foltos was like, uh, does the dog's owner know you're entering their dog into this parade? The gal went, no! ...Okay. And then we found out the gal had known the dog for about six months, so it's not like she just got it yesterday, but still. Okay, whatever.
Mom had walked around the craft fair a bit while the actual marching part of the parade happened, and she came across a traveling boutique, like a food truck for clothes. She thought it was really cool and wanted me to check it out, but I never care for the craft fair and decided against it. So, when we left the pet parade, that was it for the fest proper. We went back to River Street because I wanted to stop by the Tea Tree Shop for a bottle of oil. I have my lava bead bracelets I made that I'd like to use as reusable bug bands, and I wanted an oil that would repel bugs and that I could stand smelling. Mom has an aromatherapy book that listed about a dozen possible oils for that, and I took a picture of it before leaving the house today. Then it was a matter of seeing what oils were there (not all on the list were), sniffing them, and picking one out. I went with lemongrass. I almost chose citronella since that's a known repellent, but it's so strong. They're not all that different to me, but the lemongrass is milder. So, at some point, I'll give that a shot. I'm hoping it works.
While I sniffed around, mom walked down the street to the Salt Escape. She's been there before and even got a punch card for something like 5 or 10 visits, and she offered to let me use one of her trips; that was back when she'd first gone. She's seen some improvements to her health since going, like her one trip cleared up her eczema, and what the heck; I can go. They're hour-long appointments, so she booked us for noon, which was super convenient. Once we finished at the store, we went over. We did have to wait about 15-20 minutes, but that gave us time to use the washroom and put on our socks. You can go barefoot, but I preferred the white socks--and I was already wearing black no-show socks with my gym shoes. It's a no cell phone zone in the cave, so people were locking them up in little lockers. I, uh, broke protocol by keeping mine in my purse, which subsequently was in my bag under the stuff we'd gotten from the farmers market, plus I keep it on vibrate anyway, so...yeah. Contraband. Mom was super anxious about the visit. She was first in line, not that there really was a line, and she kept asking me, where do you want to sit? Do you want to sit together? I hope we get a chair. Mom, seriously, it's fine. You pick where you want to sit and I'll go next to you. I'd seen a picture of the inside and it made it seem like there was a window, and it was bright and sunny in there. Turns out the photographer must have been in the back of the room and the door must've been open, because it was actually pretty dark. There was some ambient light, but not much. There are eight chairs, four on either side, plus this sort of ledge on one side with pillows that can fit a couple more people. The floor is covered in food-grade salt, which we were welcome to pick up and rub on certain body parts to make them feel better (I opted out of that). We could get noise-canceling headphones if we wanted. Mom declined, but I took a pair just in case and I did end up using them. Alas, they were more noise-reducing than canceling for me; I could still hear the waves background sound, as well as the tinkling from this tiny fountain the guy brought in. Neither mom nor I cared for the fountain (she said it hadn't been there in the past) because it was more bathroom-inducing than relaxing. I could also still hear people shifting in their chairs, which were zero gravity ones. Mom and I were the only ones on our side, and all four chairs across from us were taken, plus one girl went with the futon pillow ledge. We were told that, while the temperature in there was currently comfortable, as our blood pressure slowed, we'd likely get cold, and there were blankets on all our chairs. I never used mine but toward the end, I could feel a shiver emanating out of my body, radiating from my center to my extremities, and that happened a number of times--not constant, but certainly not just once or twice. I was wearing a T-tank top and shorts, though; it was in the 90s outside. There was one thing the headphones nearly eliminated, and that was this hum in the room. I wonder if it had anything to do with the glowing salt walls--they were made of brick-shaped salt cubes. There was this nebulous wave light projecting in one corner, to my left, and there was this green square coming down from the ceiling and projecting against the far wall to my right. Mom had picked the first chair on the right closest to the door, and I was next to her. For the most part I closed my eyes and just let my mind wander, but every so often my eyes would open. I'm not sure what all I got out of it, but I'm glad I did it. And my phone stayed quiet in my bag, which was hanging on a hook by the door. Phew.
Once we finished, mom was ready for lunch, so we went over to Panera. We each got a pick-two; she got soup and a sandwich, and I got a flatbread and mac & cheese, plus a cheese brittany pastry. From there, it was our annual pilgrimage to Bird is the Word. Mom really liked this red and blue bird and was able to hold it for a bit. It was smaller than the macaw but still a good-sized bird. In the next cage were smaller green birds, slightly bigger than cockatiels, and one was able to roam freely. We figured out that that bird was the little troublemaker, as it kept hopping on the red bird's cage and tried to play with that bird's toys from the top, and the red bird was like, uh, MY toy! And kept nipping at the green one. Mom then got the green bird on her finger, but he quickly climbed up her shoulder and didn't want to come down. I managed to get him onto my finger, but then he tried climbing up my arm. I didn't want that because I was wearing sunscreen, so we got him back on top of the red bird's cage, and eventually he flew across the way onto someone else's cage. Oh, you're a little stinker, aren't you? Meanwhile, I had fun watching the macaw in the corner crack open, then eat a walnut. And that's why you don't want your fingers near a large bird's beak.
From there, we went up to the library. Mom did some browsing and we poked our heads into the used book sale, but neither of us needs anything. I stepped out first; she came out second. After that, we were both hot and tired and headed for home, where we discovered dad up on a ladder, having trimmed the big tree out front, as well as one of the bushes. We've been chilling at home since, glad to be able to rest in a cool house.