I know.  Why would someone who dislikes oysters go to such a thing?  Well, we/I was having Festival withdrawal and it just sounded like fun.  This little town must at least quadruple in size during this Volunteer Fire Department fund raiser.  We skipped the main event, the raw oyster eating contests.  The winning guy ate 329 in 5 minutes.  Blech.

We joined the throngs lining the main street for the parade.  It was another small town classic, dozens of fire trucks, the requisite Shriners and politicians, followed by the Oyster King, Queen, princes, little miss oyster, tiny tot oyster and on and on.  I don’t know where they got all those crowns.

In the food tent they had a whole row of guys shucking as fast as they could go just to keep up with the long line of folks anxious to slide down a dozen or so.  Not I (or Kent).  We stuck to the cooked stuff: some wonderful fried Texas coast oysters, and shrimp.

Some fair sounding local bands filled the huge striped tent with waves of country music.  The place was a-jumping.

The second tent was filled with rows of craft booths.  I couldn’t resist looking but did manage not to actually buy anything.

I had a funnel cake.  Overall, the festival experience was quite satisfying.

The wild cry of a pissed-off bobcat was a bit un-nerving even in daylight.  The beautifully marked sleek coated cat strode across the road just in front of us like he owned the place.  His short curled tail was tipped with bright white.  He was in no hurry and seemed unconcerned with us humans standing statue-still wanting to make the encounter last as long as possible.  He disappeared into the thicket of live oaks.  Encounter over, we thought.  Surprise.   A loud, wild cry leapt out of the thicket.  A half dozen paired howls/screams left no doubt that we had seen a wild animal that many a creature had reason to fear.  I was glad it was daylight and that we spend the night inside solid walls.