I was prepared to simply hunker down over the weekend, pay bills, clean the house and relax…. The guys surprised me Saturday morning with the leading question: “So what would you like to do this weekend?” – followed by wide grins and suggesting we go to Strassenfest.

I hadn’t been to the German street festival in nearly 10 years…. and before that – not since I was a kid…. I’ve been saying for years we need to go but always would loose track and forget when the event was.

The recommendation we go was something of a surprise they’d been cooking for a couple of weeks.

It didn’t take me long to abort brunch and get dressed… Since I don’t own a pair of lederhosen, (though I’d like to), I scaped together the best “German Looking” outfit I could: dark socks and casual shoes.

The memory trigger of waltzing down Market street and being hit with all the yummy smells was profound….

Ran into Matt and Woofer…

Looked at the VW show.

Drank Beer.

Ate Knockwurst.

Ate Bratwurst.

Ate Roasted Corn.

Ate Potato Pancakes.

All before 4pm…. Leaving enough time to come back home and flop into a big ole pile of starch-induced Germanic coma.

I’m not blogging – I’m debating starting to wear dark socks excessively, wearing eye liner and becoming a performance artist.

*do you want to touch my monkey?