XVIII: The Long, Hot Weekend

They dragged me around all last weekend. I wouldn't have minded except that (a) it was bloody hot for it being October, (b) all the drives were at least 90 minutes, if not more, and after all that, (c) we didn't go anywhere very interesting. By which I mean: no mysteries to solve, not even an injured person much less any dead ones to investigate. Honestly, what do these people do with their time?

Well, as it turns out . . . They go to more Renaissance Faires. Last spring it was a sort of Robin Hood theme. This time it was King Arthur. These people do realize they're not in England? They even tried accents, most of which were awful.

And to top it all off, The American dressed up this time.

So did the other ones.

Well, not the smallest. He appears to be the only one with any sense, aside from wearing sweatpants in 27 degree heat. (That's about 80 Fahrenheit.) But that's not really his fault considering he can't even dress himself yet.

The "little princess" there got the grand idea of draping me with beads.

She told everyone I was a mermaid. I take exception on two accounts: one, I don't see how beads possibly make one a mermaid, and two, if anything I'm a merman. But no, I'm not.

Fine. We got home, had a rest, and then the very next day we were off again on another long drive, this time to visit Thomas the Tank Engine. And yes, ride on him. Did they really ship him across the Atlantic to entertain small children? Apparently so.

There wasn't even anything to look at during the ride.

And no air-con, either, so it continued to be sweltering.

She was happy enough, though. Likes the heat.

The princess got her hands on me again at one point.

All that hair AND she's got me right in the sun besides.

Later, I hid. Though being next to the sippy cup made me more conspicuous than I'd intended.

Sufficient to say I was glad enough of getting home, even if I normally complain of being bored there. (Sorry, John.)