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MeadFest and Bottle Brushes


Our driveway had puddles; the skies had puffy white clouds floating across the bay, and there was a gentle breeze. Our drive through the marshes of southeast Texas was pleasant enough in itself but we hoped we would not be too late for the MeadFest.

A versatile musician was singing and playing a sax–a variety of songs appealing to those of us who remembered when we bought the vinyl records; vendors were offering samples of their mead, one offered  beautiful wooden mugs, and then there was the winery offerings.

I attempted to take photos of the bees harvesting nectar from the bottle brush shrubs–wildly waving blooms despite a helping steadying hand from husband.bee20at20bottom20of20bottle20brush20tree-m

And then there was the dog.

Glen nearly always has dog biscuits in his pants pockets.

This dog was not quite so sure about this.

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