You don't think I'm a rainbow? Oh, I am a rainbow!
The camera should have included the treasure chest at my feet.
The camera should have included the treasure chest at my feet.
Still don't believe me? Whatever. Rainbows don't care what mere humans think, anyway. We spend most of our time in that beautiful place where the heavenly atmosphere meets the sun.
You wouldn't understand.
Okay, so let me explain this blog post.
The Cygnet Folk Festival is not for swans and their baby cygnets, although it does occur in a place where swans and their babies live in abundance. Cygnet is where I grew up. It is a charming little town, complete with hippies, farmers, immigrants and apple-pickers (a LOT of apple-pickers). Plus plenty of minorities and anomalies I haven't mentioned. We're a mixed bag.
It has three pubs (or is it four? I think one burnt down once... or twice?!) It has several coffee shops and lots of rolling rolling rolling hills and an estuary that weaves its way towards the sea. It also has Saidy, the lady who owns the middle shop and has the most colourful personality in the world. If I've misspelled her name, she might throw broccoli at me. Or a kitchen knife. But we won't mind, because it's Saidy! And her hommus is out of this world.
Anyway, once a year this little town blooms into a full-blown music fest. It used to be the highlight of my every year. I remember one year a 12-piece percussion band from South America blew me to another dimension. Or was it a 17-piece band? Either way, I was blasted to another dimension in which it is obligatory to dance like a maniac.
Another highlight is deep-friend mushrooms. I love them. Deep friend mushrooms. Am I allowed to talk about them for five hours? No, not really. Because today we are here to see how kids enjoyed our festival. I missed it. But, happily for me, I have a mother dedicated enough to run around and take photographs for two entire days just for my silly little website.
P.S. To the parents whose children appear on this page, if you made it here~!
We could not match names with faces! We have names, we have faces, but they are not in alignment! If you remember your child's name (which I am sure you do), please put it in the comment section and I will place the correct name under the correct cute little noggin'. Also, I love you all for allowing your children to be a part of my humble website. Growing minds are fascinating to me, and if you are taking your children to folk festivals complete with cygnets and swans... well, their minds are already growing particularly well!
Now, let's take a look.... I will use a little creative license and imagine what these children are thinking, if I may! Again, parents, please feel free to correct me in the comment section, send angry letters, or beat me with a bat. Or, alternatively, send nice letters!
Here we go....
You wouldn't understand.
Okay, so let me explain this blog post.
The Cygnet Folk Festival is not for swans and their baby cygnets, although it does occur in a place where swans and their babies live in abundance. Cygnet is where I grew up. It is a charming little town, complete with hippies, farmers, immigrants and apple-pickers (a LOT of apple-pickers). Plus plenty of minorities and anomalies I haven't mentioned. We're a mixed bag.
It has three pubs (or is it four? I think one burnt down once... or twice?!) It has several coffee shops and lots of rolling rolling rolling hills and an estuary that weaves its way towards the sea. It also has Saidy, the lady who owns the middle shop and has the most colourful personality in the world. If I've misspelled her name, she might throw broccoli at me. Or a kitchen knife. But we won't mind, because it's Saidy! And her hommus is out of this world.
Anyway, once a year this little town blooms into a full-blown music fest. It used to be the highlight of my every year. I remember one year a 12-piece percussion band from South America blew me to another dimension. Or was it a 17-piece band? Either way, I was blasted to another dimension in which it is obligatory to dance like a maniac.
Another highlight is deep-friend mushrooms. I love them. Deep friend mushrooms. Am I allowed to talk about them for five hours? No, not really. Because today we are here to see how kids enjoyed our festival. I missed it. But, happily for me, I have a mother dedicated enough to run around and take photographs for two entire days just for my silly little website.
P.S. To the parents whose children appear on this page, if you made it here~!
We could not match names with faces! We have names, we have faces, but they are not in alignment! If you remember your child's name (which I am sure you do), please put it in the comment section and I will place the correct name under the correct cute little noggin'. Also, I love you all for allowing your children to be a part of my humble website. Growing minds are fascinating to me, and if you are taking your children to folk festivals complete with cygnets and swans... well, their minds are already growing particularly well!
Now, let's take a look.... I will use a little creative license and imagine what these children are thinking, if I may! Again, parents, please feel free to correct me in the comment section, send angry letters, or beat me with a bat. Or, alternatively, send nice letters!
Here we go....
Are you looking at me?
I SAID, are you looking at me?!
This is a folk festival. Look at the clowns.
This is a folk festival. Look at the clowns.
We do not care what the grownup says. We ARE the hippest chicks in town!
(Are they the deep-fried mushrooms in the background? Sorry to steal your spotlight there, girls, but I really like those things...)
(Are they the deep-fried mushrooms in the background? Sorry to steal your spotlight there, girls, but I really like those things...)
Festivals are all about putting as many colours as possible on and in your face. Do not question my philosophy. It is clearly correct.
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I am certain about one solitary thing. I am mighty cute. Everyone says it. It is the simple truth.
But this festival business.... I am yet to develop an opinion on this...
Meh - for now, who cares! I will just poke my tongue out. It makes me EVEN cuter than usual (if that is possible), rendering me more entertaining than the rest of the festival put together!
But this festival business.... I am yet to develop an opinion on this...
Meh - for now, who cares! I will just poke my tongue out. It makes me EVEN cuter than usual (if that is possible), rendering me more entertaining than the rest of the festival put together!
I do whatever I want.
Seriously. I do whatever I want. Festivals grant me this freedom, no?
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How do you do? I stepped out of a story book into your world just yesterday. My, but it IS an interesting place, this... What is it? Cygnet Folk Festival? Yes, I think I'll hang around for a bit...
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Yes, I am cute. Yes, I'm from another century. If you MUST know, I am the latest companion of Doctor Who.
My bro comes along for the ride sometimes. He's a cool cat. He can also reach the controls in the TARDIS better than me.
My bro comes along for the ride sometimes. He's a cool cat. He can also reach the controls in the TARDIS better than me.
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The Cygnet Folk Festival. Wind back to the '60s. Tie die is in. Silly hats are all the go. Small people play instruments. Where are the iPads? Aaaagh - where are the iPads?! (Sorry, I experience slight panic when technology is lacking.) Tempura mushrooms are great. Sausages sizzle is around if that's your bag. People dance like Kate Bush has possessed them. Other people dance like beer has possessed them. People drum and drum and drum. Some of the drumming is the best I've seen. Some is the worst I've seen. Swans are in the estuary. And so are cygnets!
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