Sundayfest, not a day of rest

Whoever said that weekends are for resting never lived in Chicago during the warm weather.  At the first hint of sunshine, every neighbourhood group, civic society, and sporting club booked a weekend date in the calendar to host a festival of some sort or other.

Obviously it's just not physically possible to make it to every event on offer, but on the Sunday just gone, we had every intention of doing just that.  The weather was beautiful on Sunday and so the boys and me jumped on the train to attend the second day of Midsommerfest, a festival held in Andersonville, a suburb about 10 minutes north of my house.  There is apparently quite a strong Swedish connection in the suburb but aside from one or two street vendors selling Swedish meatballs (much to Joshua's delight), you could be forgiven for thinking it was just another neighbourhood party.  Taking up 4 blocks, the street festival allowed local businesses and artists to hawk their wares, and gave onlookers like me the perfect excuse to buy cheap silver jewellery, artistic photographs of Chicago, and big jumbo banana splits with hot fudge sauce.

We had every intention of heading Downtown for the second day of the Chicago Blues Festival too, but our bodies just wouldn't take us there.  So we headed home, cooked dinner, and headed out to Sidetracks for a few hours of show tunes.

Given how I felt on Monday morning, I can safely say it was fortunate that no photos were taken to chart the progress of our night as we moved from Sidetracks to Roscoe's, to the adult store, to the 24-hour diner.  But it is equally safe to say that I was an absolute HIT at Sidetracks, and the only female in there under 50 years of age.  Rock on.