Heritage Festival made the weekend

What a beautiful weekend. The skies were an intense blue and sunny both Saturday and Sunday. It was the perfect temperature, not too hot and not too chilly. The breezes brought the sweet scents of autumn. Chrysanthemums bloomed in bright yellows and rusty reds.

It was the perfect weekend for the annual Heritage Festival in Portland, Indiana. It was held at the Historical Museum. There were various activities for people to try such as old fashioned games and a set of stilts that very few could master.

I was there on Saturday when the national anthem was played. Every single person I saw stopped whatever they were doing to face the flag. Most of them held their hands over their hearts. A few quietly sang along. I thought to myself, this is what small-town America is all about.

The festival offers a place to sell various arts and crafts. Even that is second to the real attraction. After a hot summer where people stayed in air conditioned spaces as much as possible, it was the perfect place to reconnect with friends and neighbors.

I saw people I hadn’t seen in years. It was nice to be able to catch up with them without blocking the aisle of a store or feeling like we should move along and get out of the way. The conversation was even more important than whatever the vendors were peddling.

The other attraction was food. I opted for a foot-long hot dog with chili sauce. I tried to be careful but a good bit of the sauce ended up on my jeans. I was told that the sauce was an attempt to reproduce the original sauce from a recipe created long ago. They seemed to think that they were close to matching the original flavor and texture but they were not quite there yet.

Original or not, it was good in addition to being messy. They had other items on the menu such as chili and cornbread, but I prefer the messy hot dog to the other choices. I intended to go down to the far end of the displays for some ice cream but never made it.

 It seemed to me that even though the weather was perfect, there weren’t quite as many buyers as usual. I did manage to sell a small piece that was supposed to be a parrot but ended up being something else. I have no idea what it ended up being other than being a small token to remind its owner that somewhere, somebody loved her and was glad she was still here.

 I have a tiny blue polka dotted hippopotamus that lives in the bottom of my purse that serves the same purpose. I have tried and tried to reproduce it to no avail.

The chrysanthemum display was on the way out. I was talking to the vendor and said that I really wanted two pots of flowers but didn’t think I could carry both pots to the car. He graciously offered to drop them off at my house. I took him up on his offer.

A few minutes after I got home I heard a knock on the door. I assumed it was the flower guy. I was wrong. It was my brother and his wife. They had been to the antique store and decided to stop by.

It wasn't too much later that the flower man appeared at the door and dropped off the plants. I need to get them into the ground so they can take attention away from the pathetic peonies that were moved last week.

All in all it was a great weekend. Now it is time to get the houseplants ready to come into the house and start getting things ready for cooler weather.