Smallhouse Log

later Sunday

"If this isn't nice, what is?"

There I was, sitting quietly on the Bridgeport Coffee House patio, when none other than Sam, the guy I met at the Mass, comes out of nowhere with his Tiny Asian Girlfriend. They were trying to find a group from one of his classes that was supposed to tour the stockyards, but instead they found me. So I joined them as we went to the stockyards and back, but never found the tour. Sam determined he would find some culture in the neighborhood while we were there instead. I was skeptical, since the neighborhood is usually pretty quiet on Sundays. We went to the Buddist temple; they were having a service, and Sam's TAG was able to translate just a little for us. Then we went to watch what looked like an alley fight, but it wasn't an alley fight. We stumbled onto a culture bomb.

The ring of people in the vacant lot were pondering a mural-in-progress, which is part of some sort of art and culture festival, of which the concerts I was planning to go to are a part, it seems. Further, there was a show tonight, supposedly a folk show of sorts, and for the same parcel admission fee, an Info Expo. The Info Expo, I should say. It needs the definite article. I cannot even describe it, I am so jumped up on culture right now. There is an hour between the shut-down of the Info Expo and the concert, so I came home and made supper. This space, this amazing space, and the group of people associated with it, is just, like two blocks away. It's almost time to head back over, but oh, I'm so tired, I got up at the usual time. But I can't be stopped.

I have not had a weekend like this in far too long.

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