Come Visit for Memorial Day Weekend!

Come Visit for Memorial Day Weekend!

Hello all! If you’ve got nothing planned this weekend, come on down to Chestertown for the annual Chestertown Tea Party Festival (no affiliation whatsoever to the Tea Party movement (named after the Boston Tea Party). We really wish they had named themselves after pretty much anything else Boston-related – “The Freedom Trail Party,” “The Common Party,” “The Prudential Party,” “The Massacre Party,” “The Duck Tours Party,” “The Celtics Party,” “The Wicked Pissah Party” – I mean, we could have come up with a LOT of things).

Anyway, the Chestertown Tea Party Festival is a celebration of all things colonial and crafty. There’s all kinds of things happening including parades, clogging, puppet shows, storytelling, cannon firing, a reenactment of tossing the tea into the river (includes the tossing of human cargo as well!), walking tours, sailing on the schooner Sultana, beer and wine tasting, and of course, the infamous Raft Race. Check out the schedule HERE.

We, of course, are MOST looking forward to the Sneaker Creeper on Friday. We’ve been counting down the days for months (really). Last year Alden ran a half lap:

But this year she’s going all the way up to a whole lap.

There’s also our yearly visit with the Parade Crab:

And, most importantly, funnel cakes galore:

If you’d like to know more about Tea Parties past, HERE’s a post, HERE’s a post, and oh man HERE’s a post.

And hopefully we’ll see you this weekend!

Tea Party Weekend (and Week)

Tea Party Weekend (and Week)

We have been absent here for a few days, but as is sometimes the case, we were too busy living our lives to report on them.

But here on this holiday morning, we have a moment to catch our breaths and tell you of the week that was, and more, the weekend that was. As anyone knows, Memorial Day weekend in Chestertown is the one and only Tea Party Festival.

But I’m getting ahead of myself.

For the first part of the week, Kato brooded. We did not know why.

And then we suddenly figured it out. He had suddenly become an artist. A photographer, to be exact. He took Robbi’s camera and proceeded to practice his craft.

Apparently, his specialty is portraiture.

And high-energy drumming shots.

And slightly risque, “knee and lower thigh” shots.

And this moody piece he calls “still life with legs of stool.”

Not to be forgotten is “blurry sad dog.”

I could show you much more evidence of Kato’s burgeoning inner Ansel Adams. Much, much more. But I’m pretty sure you get the idea. And so I’ll move on.

To August, who spent some time perfecting his spiral staircase ascent.

At first, he was cautious.

But the possibilities were so great, that he pushed on, inspired.

With every step, his confidence grew.

It must be fun to be so small and have every discovery be so profound. His world is expanding, and I’m just so glad to be here with a front-row seat.

He has been coming with me when I drop Alden off at school.

He has taken to doing “works,” as practical activities are called in the Montessori parlance.

Kato, too, got a glimpse into his future by visiting Alden’s “primary” classroom (Kato spends most of his time in pre-primary). Primary has exciting challenges, such as screwing in various sizes of bolts with a screwdriver.

Or putting various sizes of styrofoam balls into tumblers.

While the boys did their works, Alden used an eyedropper to place tiny beads of green fluid into tiny suction cups.

Before.

And after. Builds fine motor skills and creates a thing of beauty.

Who says there’s no room for aesthetics in learning?

At Friendship Montessori, learning is fun. As shown.

But really, I have been stalling. This week was all about Tea Party, Chestertown’s yearly show of colonial merriment. Drawn by the lure of such festivity, my stepsister Gina, her husband King, and their little boy Whalen came down from Brooklyn.

On Friday afternoon, all of us headed up to the Washington College lacrosse stadium for the Sneaker Creeper, the annual track meet for kids that is one of the Tea Party kickoff events.

Alden was a rookie last year and has been talking ever since about her triumphant return to the track.

At her side was BFF Mary Jane.

The day was crisp and cool. Perfect running weather. Nothing could be sweeter.

The seasoned athletes that they are, Alden and Mary Jane went through a battery of stretches while August looked on in wonder (or was it silent scorn?).

Toe touches.

 

Torso twists.

High knee kicks.

Her fans looked on approvingly.

The Chestertown crowd.

And the Brooklyn contingent.

The first race was the 11-year-olds running the mile. Then the two-year-olds got their turn. Then the three-year-olds (Kato opted not to run this year) and four-year-olds. When the time came for five-year-old girls, Alden and Mary Jane lined up. The starting gun fired. And they were off.

This is what pure joy looks like.

She was a determined little blur.

And a winner!

Just like Mary Jane.

And cousin Whalen, too.

Saturday morning was the Tea Party parade. Living a block from High Street, we don’t have far to go for front-row seats .

Around here, people take their colonial merriment seriously.

Very seriously.

Especially the crab.

He dishes out hugs like it was 1776.

Of course, our beloved Chestertown Marching Band was at its finest.

Baby August looked on with the steely-eyed glare of one who has recently learned how to climb a spiral staircase.

“All this,” he seemed to say, “is but a trifle in the face of my magnificent accomplishments.”

His brooding was cut short as the Redcoats arrived.

But they were quickly chased off by the lion.

The king of the jungle broke August from his funk. Suddenly, he had a new mountain to climb.

He asked me if he could please ride on the lion.

It was difficult to deny him. Eventually, he had to be jailed, if briefly.

Tea Party continued, with lemonade.

And posing on barrels. You know, just like they did in revolutionary times.

After a few hours in the sun, we took a long, long nap. After which we reconvened for snacks on the deck.

Robbi grilled salmon with little confidence.

Spoiler alert: it was delicious.

On Sunday, we walked by the Chester in Wilmer Park.

Until it was time for goodbyes.

The pains of which were softened by the pleasures of grilled meat.

And lovely views of the river.

And a latenight bike ride through the neighborhood.

It was a very good weekend, capping off a very good week. In case you missed it, this is the week in which a box arrived from Chronicle…

…containing our advance copies of Ten Thousand Stories.

In the excitement of posting about that grand happening, I forgot to attend to some basic housekeeping.

Which is to say that, if you are so inclined, Ten Thousand Stories is now available for pre-order. Order today and get an only-somewhat-unexpected treat in the mail come November.

Also, we have just created a Facebook page for Ten Thousand Stories.Not blessed with the same huge marketing budgets as the “big six” publishers, Chronicle depends on social media and word-of-mouth to help promote its titles.  If you are willing and have a minute to drop by and “like” the page, it will help our efforts to get the word out. Thanks in advance if you’re able to do it.

And that’s it. The week is behind us, but because of this holiday Monday, seemingly with us still. I’ll take it. I need a little time to recover from so much fun and to pretend for just a bit longer that real life will not return tomorrow morning.