I went, yesterday afternoon, to Grabill, Indiana, where we attended the Grabill Country Fair. We, O Best Beloved, meaning myself, my Angel, my father, ecchikun, watcher_shadow, and quinby. We ate freshly coooked cornonthecob, pork fritters, huge mounds of potatoes sliced into concurrent chip-thickness slivers and fried, and ice cream. We drank several mugs of variously-coloured homemade root beer. We meandered through the booths, were all mesmerized by a quartet playing "It don't mean a thing," and had, in my estimation, a lovely time.
Then we came home and watched moveon.org's Bush in 30 seconds ad collection. Most of us are avowed Kerry-voters this year; even the undecided ones seemed to enjoy the majority of the ads. Except, of course, the ones that were not compelling, repetitive, or boring. It was a good ending.
But I woke up this morning with a headache. I tried to go to church; the motion of the car made me nauseated, and Angel took me home. I took a third Aleve. I am still headachy; this is a stubborn migraine inded. I think, O Best Beloved, that something in last night's food must have disagreed with my constitution. I hope it was not the homemade ice cream.
Next shift: 10 PM Monday to 7 AM Tuesday. This will necessitate some daytime sleeping in any case.