Well, today was our gig. It wasn’t really a gig per se. We weren’t getting paid. The “festival” was a “back-to-the-19th/20th-century” day at the Johnson Farm. There was old engines, a history of the place, fire making, candle making (I think), etc. Andy came along and he really enjoys that kind of stuff. So we set up in a spot and played music (there were other people we know playing around the farm). It was a little tricky playing mandolin ’cause my index finger had a longer burn than the others (meaning the burn went farther down) so bending it hurt. I strummed and picked holding the pick with my thumb and middle finger. I couldn’t play very loud ‘n sharp but nobody was listening so it didn’t matter. After we did one of our sets, we packed up and looked at the food. There was drumsticks for a dollar, cornbread for 50 cents, pie for two dollars, etc. There was good corn soup so Luke and I both got bowls of that. We got the last of the pot and my order was the last one so instead of ladeling it out, she just took the pot and turned it upside-down so I got quite a big bowl of soup. To the brim! (where everybody else had it about halfway full.
So it was a good day . . . except a little freezing.
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