This past weekend, our little Midwest town held their annual Festival of the Turning Leaves. I have attended the festival for years, and for a while even served on the planning committee, but I’ve only recently moved into town. Not just into town, but I actually moved onto the very street that gets blocked off for the food court and the performance stage.
This means that for two days straight, I could sit on my front porch and listen to a musical line up ranging from a Journey cover band to the hilarious parody band called The Electric Amish. It also meant that from 8 a.m. on Saturday until 5 p.m. on Sunday, merely steps from my front door, a vast array of festival foods beckoned.