Monday, August 17, 2015

Irish Fest 2014 and 2015

I just realized I never blogged about last year's Irish Fest. Strangely, I don't remember much about it, except that Denise and I were there and that Maggie took this selfie.

Maggie is great about scheduling us when we want to work, and the 4 to 8 shift is really the Fest's sweet spot: fun volunteers, easygoing customers, and time to wander around afterward.

This year's Fest had a little of everything, starting with the parking gridlock. It's too bad this is a thing, going to one lot and then getting redirected.

Within moments of walking into the tent, we were ringing up sales. There was virtually no time to chat with other volunteers (Murph, how are you doing?) or even for this selfie. (And yes, I wore the same dress and earrings last year.)  

Fortunately Jenna, who's in high school but has been volunteering for five years with her grandpa, knew just about everything. She was the go-to person about posters, sizes, and prices on the rhinestone tees. At one point I looked at her.

"Ten dollars," she said. (She just knew I was going to ask how much the backpacks were.)

Among this chaos, Margaret stopped to announce that Denise and I had been volunteers for 10 years. Everyone in the tent applauded and we got our 10-year Irish Fest pins. It was a truly awesome moment, because how often in life do you unexpectedly get applause? Thank you, Margaret and Maggie and Jenna and everyone who makes it so much fun to be a part of the Fest.

Monday, August 3, 2015

Tailgates and mini milestones

The tennis gang has a long, colorful history of tailgating that is not rivaled by a love of baseball. (Though, there are some years when Colleen can name multiple players on the team.) While any jamoke can lean on their car and drink Miller Lite, this group knows how to handle the details: preferred parking passes (thanks, Ron!), clearly marked coolers with ice-cold beverages, homemade chocolate chip cookies, two kinds of hand wipes.

We were all happy to toast a half-milestone: Ron's 65th birthday. It's hard to believe that Ron and Jean's collective 120th birthday was already five years ago. I'm really glad they celebrated that one with karaoke rather than skydiving, which was also one of their options.

It was a night for simple pleasures. Like mobility. (Though, truthfully, when Patty and I were on crutches last year, we were still able to enjoy brunch.) Thanks to Dianne for taking so many photos of us trying to show off our injury-free legs, and also for being the organizer of so many brunches.

I did get a little nervous at the Final Destination-like moment when one of the bolts fell out of the tent. But that passed, and it was really a nice, relaxing night. Almost as relaxing as, say, making a mohawk with Coco's golden retriever curls, which I was able to do later. Who knew that the night could keep getting better?

And no, Doug is not almost passed out — merely recovering from his grilling exertions (or trying to avoid being in the photo with all the enviable white-shorts ladies, of which Beth was also one). He did a phenomenal job with the steaks, brats, and hot dogs. When I hear Hebrew National, I think Doug, for sure.

Thanks to everyone who made the night fun. My first-ever Brewers tailgate did not disappoint, and I'll look forward to going back next year!

Saturday, August 1, 2015

Cokes and friends

When I was a kid, I could never find any souvenirs with my name on them. Poor Yukie still has trouble with that. I hope she has at least stopped saying her name is "Vicki" when placing to-go orders ("because that's what people hear").

So when Katy's sister forwarded this photo, I just had to post it. Katy doesn't really drink soda and I never drink diet. Nor as children were we allowed unlimited access to sugary soft drinks. But I've always loved Coke — particularly from bottles or tiny cans, with lots of ice and a twist of lime.

Well played, Coke, with your social media campaign. And Erika, please let us know if you ever find a Coke for Yukie. Or Vicki.