My husband is uniquely qualified to sub for a suburban polka band on a cool September weekend, just as Oktoberfest season is revving up. Which just happens to be exactly what he's doing.

As a trumpet player growing up in a rural Nebraska village staunchly proud of its Czech heritage, Mr. Band Director was raised on a steady diet of polka, both listening and playing.

Two gigs back-to-back this weekend inspired us to make a trip out of it: that's how Polka Weekend [First Annual] was born!

The Plan:
Friday: Drive our teardrop camper to Wisconsin. Listen to music. Compare notes on a surreal week (really ... it was pretty unusual). Laugh. Have a cocktail.
Saturday: Yummy coffee and breakfast made in a cast iron skillet. Mr. Band Director departs for an 8-hour gig (that is not a typo!) while I stay back at the cozy campsite, armed with books to read and notebooks to fill. Ahhh, sweet silence.
Sunday: Leisurely breakfast. Hike in the woods. Head to Polka Gig #2 (this one is only 4 hours). This time, I'll attend too, but no dancing for me. I'm there mainly for the schnitzel and the tall guy with the trumpet.

So while my day looked like this:

His day looked like this ...


I'm pretty sure both of us believe we're the one who had the best day.

I hope September never ends.