Wheatless in Seattle

Back from the hand­fast­ing… and no, the joke above is not mine.

My plane was four hours late get­ting into Seattle so Thursday night’s plans were stuffed. Went dan­cing to blow off some steam but the delay was still thing we needed. Friday we went to Pike St Mar­kets for break­fast and then spent the after­noon at the Folk­Life fest­ival. Rather handy that the wed­ding coin­cided with one of the biggest folk fest­ivals in Amer­ica. We watched 

bevsob

 per­form funky acro­batic tricks and listened to Flodd (they call them­selves tango pop but it sounds like klezmer to me). We also saw Bev’s little red studio (beau­ti­ful! *envy*) and met and chat­ted to a friend of Bev’s named Raven who showed us her emporium filled with erotic art and erotic Lego.

We tried to keep out of each oth­er’s way and off each oth­er’s toes – Doug was some­what nervous about the hand­fast­ing speech and I had a lot on my plate. Sat­urday morn­ing, we had break­fast delivered and then I looked up gluten-free baker­ies while Doug fin­ished get­ting dressed. Stopped at Da Vin­ci’s bakery on our way and picked up divine straw­berry and cus­tard tart so I had cakey things to eat at the hand­fast­ing, not know­ing that their “cake” was going to be indi­vidual chocol­ates I can eat anyway.

It was all lovely. 

puzzle­fox

 is a sweet­heart and her man’s not bad either. Met lovely folks. Doug took photos when he wasn’t being part of the cere­mony and handed the camera to the grooms­maid’s part­ner when he was.

That night was another plan­ning dis­aster. Went back to the hotel room to col­lapse for a while with hopes of going out to the bride and groom’s again for hot-tub­bing, ended up having awk­ward dis­cus­sions, not get­ting onto dinner until 11, having gluten issues with the food and then finally get­ting to the hot-tub past mid­night to find every­body had gone to bed.

Sunday we had brunch with every­one, at this awe­some veget­arian place called Café Flora and then Doug and I went to the Exper­i­ence Music Pro­ject which was amaz­ing. I remem­ber writ­ing about this place when it first launched. I could lose myself for hours in the oral his­tor­ies of the musi­cians. One of the most amaz­ing was Linton Kwesi John­ston talk­ing about con­scious decisions to pat­tern the rhythms of his poetry off the bass in reggae rather than iambic pen­ta­meter after read­ing Black Pan­ther Literature.

Photos when I get an opportunity.