If you’re going to the Folk Festival you need a hearty breakfast. I have just what you need. Please click my recipe book to find out what we have today
Good morrow, and enjoy the Edmonton folk festival …
If music be the food of love, play on;
Give me excess of it, that, surfeiting,
The appetite may sicken, and so die.
That strain again! it had a dying fall:
O! it came o’er my ear like the sweet sound
That breathes upon a bank of violets,
Stealing and giving odour.
(Twelfth Night, 1.1.1-7)
I’m brand new to Edmonton. Where is Galllageiar Park and where do you park? I dunno.
I am mad. I live right a block away from the Edmonton Folk Festival and there’s people, and music, and cars, and buses with those fumes that make you want to throw up.
I haven’t slept at all. And that big wind? It’s the Folk Festival’s fault because, I think, they had problems with their darned fog machines.
And Grandma Anderson. My coffee’s cold.
By the Gods of war … I’m grumpy!
Cam who has cerebral palsy asks Siri one question a day
What’s for breakfast?
Pastor Pete is on his way. He had to help start Mrs. Burdett’s lawn mower.
I’ve got biscuits in the oven. Come on back.