Not sure about August
I’m not sure what to think about August.
In some respects, it’s as good a month as there is in the state of North Dakota. The weather is usually warm and dry, perfect for a weekend at the lake, a ball game or a bike ride. Area farms and gardens are starting to kick out masses of produce, so firing up the grill every night sounds like a grand idea.
A lot of the summer’s events have passed so August seems to be a relaxing month, where people can be left to do what they enjoy the most.
On the other hand, August means September is just weeks away. And September means fall, which means we’re one month closer to winter.
I love fall: as a matter of fact, if I could relocate to somewhere that had North Dakota fall year around I’d be happy as a pig in you-know-what.
Some of the days mirror the most perfect summer days and are hot and sunny. Others are cool and crisp and force you to bundle up to take an evening walk.
Summertime bonfires are kind of fun, but generally it’s warm enough that there’s no reason to get too close to the fire.
If you want to stay warm in September, you need to get so close to the fire that it nearly singes off your leg hair.
And there’s the football.
Football on Friday nights, football on Saturdays, football on Sundays. It’s almost a perfect storm of weather and activities for a sports nut.
But for now, I’m concentrating on August, because it should be a big month for me.
My sister, and only sibling, is getting married at the very end of the month.
I’m really looking forward to the weekend, and am a little nervous, since I haven’t met her future father- and mother-in-law, who live in the Seattle area.
I know my sister, like most brides, has put in hundreds of hours of planning for the ceremony, even though it’s going to be relatively small by bridal standards.
But in the meantime, there’s plenty of stuff going on around Rugby.
I’m super excited for the Village Fair coming up next weekend. My little bluegrass band, the Roughriders, is one of the musical acts, along with Selective Memory.
Selective Memory was formed by members of a crazy 60s band called the Wonders of Confusion, which I’ve heard quite a lot about in my months in Rugby.
I’m really looking forward to hearing them and I invite everyone to come out to the fair, because it should be a splendid time.
Earlier that weekend, I’m going to be in Minot for the Y-Not Music Fest, which is in its fourth year.
It’s about the only time every year that I play piano in my musical side project, Cap Gun Caper. I need to do some intensive practice the next week so if you hear some strange sounds coming from above the Tribune, you’ll know I’m working out some songs.
And after missing the first all-city rummage sale in the spring, I’ll be around for the second one on Aug. 24.
I’m not necessarily a pack rat or a collector, but I love old stuff. Honestly if I could be transported back a half dozen decades or more to live I’d probably think it’d be the best ever, maybe with the possible exception of the bad Internet access. Did they still have dial-up in the 1950s?
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