My friend Meghan had the brilliant idea to go to the Greek Festival in a neighboring town. Fabulous idea! I heart Greek food and have been feeling a dearth of it since moving out of Manhattan, the land of everything. We also thought it would be fun to see some Greek dancing and listen to some Greek music while perusing the fine Greek wares. After all, it is important to expose our children to different cultures, right?
Well, it was a nice thought. And the food was really good, if not served on styrofoam plates. But as it turned out, the whole thing was really more of a church luncheon than an entire festival. No music. No dancing. There were wares, but I'm pretty sure they were made in China. No matter! Never ones to be brought down by such things, Meghan, Pippa, and I happily ate our lunches, bought some baklava for later and headed out.
We stumbled onto a flee market at the Quaker Meeting House (which I've been meaning to visit, by the way) and decided to stop. Such fun. I found an enormous old milk jug (I think) for a few bucks and Meghan walked away with a great beach tent for a steal. What a great day! The Flee Market was jumping, even if the Greek Festival wasn't so festive.
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