This weekend I will be attending the Swedish Festival in my home town for the first time in 6 years. When I was growing up my family and I would get involved in some way or another. Before they had kids my parents made a float (for the parade) of Snoopy sleepy on top of his doghouse over their VW bug. After we showed up my mom put her energy into making us "authentic" Swedish costumes. I think I wore mine every chance I got. When I was in the 3rd grade my small rural country school was celebrating 100 years of existence and my parents made a float to resemble an old school house. My classmates and I got to dress up in "little house on the prairie" style costumes and recite our times tables during the parade.
The Swedish Festival is a wonderful mix of ridiculous cheesiness, greasy festival food and a celebration of everything awesome about childhood. We always start the day with Swedish pancakes in the park. Served with lingonberries, they are some of the best pancakes in the world although they are not as good as my dad's. As we eat the pancakes we watch the runners from the Dala Horse Trot (a 2 K run and yes the name just invites ridiculous jokes!) fly across the finish line. Then the May pole goes up just before the parade starts. Marching bands, trailers carrying Kingsburg High graduates from 40 and 50 years ago and the Basset Hound Waddle all make the parade a can't miss. Maybe I'll come home with a new family member.
Without fail the weekend of the Swedish Festival is always unseasonably warm and this year it'll be 103. Woo Hoo! It's not really a Valley visit without sweltering heat. With all sincerity, I can't wait! My sister's pool is waiting.
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