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.
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.