There's nothing quite like a small town parade. The excitement builds for days as people discuss who is going and where they are going to park, which people are going to have floats and which ones are most likely going to be the best. The weather was perfect last night-57. Just chilly enough to require a coat. Hila Fay was so excited that I could barely get her to lay down for her nap. I couldn't believe that she remembered the parade from year before, but she obviously did because all she could talk about was getting candy.
Our whole family stood together and Hila Fay and her cousin Matt, a mere two months apart in age-and absolute best friends-stood eager for the candy fest to begin. As soon as the distant drums began, little Matt and & Hila began excitedly marching around chanting "CANDY! CANDY! CANDY!" as the adults looked on and laughed. Our parade wasn't fancy, it consisted of about a dozen floats and probably the same amount of antique cars and trucks (and one vehicle made to look like a yellow-jacket, our high school mascot) and ended with-of course-Santa Claus-being escorted out by a good bakers dozen of cowboys and cowgirls. No, it wasn't fancy-but it was a good time had by a all. It was a comradery when everybody came together, putting differences aside, and just enjoyed the moment. It reminded me of why I love the small town flavor.
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