Friends, that time of year is upon us. That time of year when we strap on our favorite sandals to walk around well-known neighborhoods with drink in hand while perusing some fine (and plenty of not-so-fine) local art. That time of year when the air is warm, a bit humid, and most everything has a light dusting of yellow. And I just love it.
Last Saturday Pal, myself, and our friends, the Sandins, did just that. (That fellow in the plaid is the littlest Sandin. Good company, that one.)
We walked, Sawyer had a blast pushing his stroller in the grass, and we were lucky enough to run into people we knew here and there. Funny how festivals can make a big city feel like a small town.
Sadly I didn’t bring anything home with me, but plenty of pieces caught my eye. If I had my way our home would be filled with a terrible amount of tchotchkes, in all shapes and sizes.
Correct me if I’m wrong, but I think the clothes sold at festivals are meant to be worn solely at festivals. Bright, cheerful, but not so easy to pull off for the everyday.
Bring on the springtime, Atlanta. I’m ready.