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What’s going on out there?  I’ve been so into my own thing these last few weeks I’ve inadvertently cut myself off from the outside world.  Except not really.  I’ve been out to a couple of winery festivals which put me in contact with a very specific cross-section of society.  Those winos have their own little subculture going you know.  They’re my kind of people.

A couple of weeks ago I was at the first ever Dancing Dragonfly Winery Grape Stomp and Rib Fest.  There were ribs, there was stomping, and there was even some music along with the artisans selling their wares.

It was a blustery weekend; perfect for some nicely seasoned ribs, or a highly stacked pulled pork sandwich.

Some of the staff at Dancing Dragonfly took to the grapes and did a little stomping. The lady at the far end is one of the owners of the winery. I don’t think she expected the stomping experience to be so…invigorating.

A fun group of guys playing winey music.

Last weekend I was at the Chateau St. Croix for another wine festival.  This year they had lots more food than they’ve had in the past, as well as a very good selection of artisans to peruse while sipping a glass of vino.  Of course they had music.  Everything from a thirty-five-piece German oompa band to some low-down blues.

The Bavarian Musik Meisters presented me with a pin for being such a good sport. I participated in learning a couple of their dances and showed dozens of people how uncoordinated I really am.

Croix Daddy – getting better and better every year.

There’s a clear shot between my craft canopy and the wine tent at the Chateau, and Dave over there is always ready to pour me a nice glass of wine.  A nice glass.  As in big.  It’s good wine too.

No, that’s not me chatting it up with Dave, but it looks like he’s ready to give her a nice glass of wine too.

I’m still trying recuperate from all the activity. One person can take only so much fun, right?

There’s another show on the horizon. I’m heading to Deer River for some more fun at Ruttger’s Oktoberfest in a few weeks. There’s no rest for the wicked.

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