Home From Fair

Kage Baker always maintained that Mondays after a Fair weekend do not exist. They are a vacuum, wherein you find your way home, find your laundry and do it before it gets away, find clothes that belong to the current century and that don’t smell of fish, sawdust, incense, beer and 500 miles of roads and gas stations.

I did spend the weekend at Dickens Fair, and a wondrous time it was , too. I was just too tired each night, Dear Readers, to document it – but I will be able to spend the week doing that! I saw magic and art and cows, met a new quasi-grandson, bested many miles through insidious fog, had enough fun for 16 people, and saw the Queen. Talked to her, too. A Kate can look at a Queen, you know …

I got home today around 3, and have only now managed to settle down and type. (There was a cat in my chair, another on my keyboard, a parrot shrieking “Hi!” incessantly, and a Corgi  doing victory laps around my room.) And all I have to say is – I’m exhilarated, exhausted, starving, and going to bed as soon as I can get a few mouthfuls of dinner in my mouth. It’ll be a near thing …

But I made it to Fair and made it back, and I will tell you all about it starting tomorrow!

About Kate

I am Kage Baker's sister. Kage was/is a well-known science fiction writer, who died on January 31, 2010. She told me to keep her work going - I'm doing that. This blog will document the process.
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4 Responses to Home From Fair

  1. Hurrah for you! looking forward to the tails.


  2. Neassa says:

    You looked so good, so energized, when you walked in Friday afternoon. And you still looked that way after dinner on Sunday! Fair is good for your health It was grand spending Opening Weekend with you. Three more to go… what more magic can we make?


  3. Kate says:

    Steven – the kitchen at Tavistock House is a wonder! And so is the kitchen staff. We need to kidnap them.


  4. Kate says:

    Oh, Neassa – so much more magic to make! Too many of the customers are staring shyly in the door and then escaping. We need to bring them inside and ply them with amazing customs they have forgotten.


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