October has long been my favorite month of the year. Rather than slowing down like the signs of autumn, my life seems to get energized and speed up. I'm not complaining, for I like it that way. Especially when the grey is closing in and it's dark when you get up and way too early in the late afternoon.

On the weekend the DH and I journeyed over the Cascade mountains and through the woods to Leavenworth, Washington state's Bavarian-themed town for Octoberfest oompahpah fun. Yes, that is Mmmmmm and the DH wearing beer stein glasses in the Fest Hall on Friday night. We chicken danced, sat-swayed and sang along with some lederhosen-wearing band from Canada, while sloshing 12 ounce plastic cups of beer. Connie and Peter ate wurst and kraut on rolls, a pacing good thing. I did not and mid swill the party ended abruptly for Mmmmmmmm. Not one more anything would pass my lips the rest of the night for fear of starting the chain reaction upchuck. I didn't drink that much because I only like top beer, the upper couple of inches of cold. Further down in the glass, bottom beer gets warm and tastes like an excretory substance sometimes mistaken for beer.

Octoberfesting isn't all beer and oompahpah--well, most of it is. Lot of it is yodeling or trying to. When I was a little girl my dad thought the singer Brenda Lee was one fine yodeler, which was a good thing that I wanted to be able to do because Dad admired that particular talent. If practice truly does make perfect, I was screwed from the get go as I couldn't stand the sound of my own yodel. Needless to say, I did not enter the yodeling competition at the Fest Hall. Perhaps I had a shot because those guys who did enter couldn't yodel either. But they got enthusiastic support from the Octoberfestered audience who was laughing like I was and thinking--better him than me on stage among the lederhosen-sporting tuba tooting accordian squeezers.

Ich bin Octoberfested!
mmmmmmmmmmelinda