Yesterday a group of friends and I went to the Laguna Sawdust Festival. To my surprise, the best part of the trip (about 60 miles) was the conversation and convivial atmosphere.

The so-called festival was really mostly an opportunity for artists who live in a colony of artists and artisans to show their wares in little booths and attempt to sell as much as they could. Not a bad thing: it was fun being able to meander from pottery to painting to textiles all within a reasonable walking distance.

The quality was wildly uneven. There were a few pieces--priced in the hundreds of dollars--that were truly stunning works of art. I remember particularly "Gold Koi", a multi-media work about four feet in length, 18 inches wide. Magnificent.

And a lovely lapis scarab pendant, unfortunately gussied up with too many pearls and other doo-dads, which detracted from the beautiful carved gem.

Many things on display were what I call "almosts"--paintings or pots or whatever that are almost excellent, but not quite.

We didn't find out until we were leaving, footsore and thirsty, that just down the road, well within walking distance, was the fine arts display, pieces (we were told) of museum quality (with corresponding prices). Which probably explains why the stuff we saw was mostly average.

If I had a place to display it properly and appropriate decor, I would have bought the Gold Koi. The rest of the stuff in the booth was very average, but the Koi was magnificent, and probably intended to draw customers (which it did very effectively).

I bought a lovely mug and, of course, a tee shirt. Dinner was sushimi, sushi, and tempura vegetables. Yum!

A day to remember. Since retiring 6 months ago, I haven't done much outing and abouting. I'm resolved to do something every month. With friends, or by myself, it's all good. I have itchy feet and we December babies need to roam. Don't fence me in.