The fickle finger of fate- part 1

The day started out like an other ordinary day.  After all my driving around yesterday, I had decided to just relax around the rig today.  About 10:00, I was sitting out at the picnic table playing solitaire when a gentleman I’ve spoken to before came walking by.  He had seen me a couple of different days struggling to get a DISH signal, and was sympathetic to my challenge.  He had the same problem.  I told him that I had given up, and could only find one satellite signal.  That’s when he told me about a nearby campground that he had visited where he thought I’d have much better luck.  I had reservations to stay here for two weeks, but had cancelled the second week a couple of days ago.  Since the other campground was also a COE park and only about 11 miles away, Emma and I hopped in the car to go check it out.  To make a long story a little shorter, we will be staying there for five nights beginning on Sunday.

On the way back from the Defeated Creek COE Campground, I noticed a sign for vine ripened tomatoes.  Ah ha!  I pulled into a road side farm and…

…met Mrs. Dillehay. (I’m embarrassed to say I can’t remember her first name.  It might be Jackie, but that might be her husband’s name.)  Anyway, we got to chatting and I asked if I could take her picture for the blog.

(I tried to show the farm and fields here, but can’t get it posted) 

She consented, and then gave me a tour of their vegetable fields.  They sell all kinds of vegetables both retail and wholesale.  The tomatoes are delicious by the way.  She works the farm during the summer and is a cook at the local elementary school during the school year.  As we chatted, I mentioned that I had seen a sign about a Blue Grass Festival this weekend, but it had no details.  Would you believe that she knew all about it, and one of her sons was performing in one of the Blue Grass groups? 

So along about 6:00, I headed back to Defeated Creek Park to enjoy a bit of the festival.  It turned out that it didn’t start until 7:00.  I wandered over to the small marina café at the park, and ran into Mr. and Mrs. Dillehay, Mr. Dillehay’s mother and his sister and brother-in-law along with their one year old grandson.  They invited me to join them at their table, and it was nice to have someone to talk to during a meal.  I told them that do to the delay in the start time, I regretted that I would not be able to see their son perform.  His group was on second, and since I don’t drive after dark I would not be able to stay long enough to hear them.

Well, then Mrs. D escorted me to the field behind the festival area where the groups getting ready to perform were warming up.  It seems these musicians can each play almost all the different instruments.

I’ve divided this post into two parts to see if I can publish that way with this crummy internet reception I have.  Please read part two for the ending.