where the lemonade springs, where the bluebird sings

Priscilla got to go to the Art Museum with my brother and his wife and their two girls in down town Chicago. You can imagine, I'm sure, just how fair Benjamin, Elijah, and Mary thought that was. "How about we go to the Chellburg Farm Fall Festival?" I suggested, to raise their spirits - an event I've wanted us to attend since we moved here, but always neglected to clear our schedule for. So off we went, not expecting too much to be honest with you, maybe a couple of produce stands, perhaps a banjo or two. But I'll tell you what, I way underestimated our rural and resourceful neighbors the next town over. Between the honey making, candle dipping, sorghum tasting, winding trails, clog dancing, and hay rides - not to mention the live music, sheep dog herding demonstrations, and homemade apple fritters, my kids more than got over the sting of missing out on their sister's super fun trip to the big city. The weather was perfect, the people were friendly, and my children went to bed early, so exhausted they were from whooping it up with the folk singers and hiking in the sun. Next year, ya'll should join us! Just find yerself some overalls and good walking shoes.