are we from the past?
Salome, Julia, Milo and I dressed up for the Dickens Fair, but Claire steadfastly refused to wear anything but jeans and a t-shirt.
It’s one of the ridiculously fun, only-in-San-Francisco events, like Maker Faire and the Mime Troupe, that have become fixtures on my calendar. The organizers take two cattle sheds at the arse-end of Cow Palace and decorate them as Victorian London. Actors dress up as Father Christmas, Sherlock Holmes, Alice in Wonderland, explorers, chimney sweeps, pickpockets, fine ladies and so forth. There are fish and chips straight out of the fryer, best I’ve ever had in America. There are choirs singing sea shanties, pantomimes in the music halls, shops selling a slightly anachronistic range of hastily-adapted Renaissance Faire merchandise.
It is an insanely good time. Highlight of this year was the ball, Claire being just the right age to be swept away by the actors. Everyone danced until they melted down and fell asleep on the way home.
