We're at a small craft fair in a Unitarian Hall on Princes Street in Cork. I never really noticed the place before but today as I was walking by with Rowan a woman carrying a big, rainbow-coloured sign in the shape of a pointing hand directed my attention to the craft fair in progress. Rowan and I went inside and now we're waiting for the face-painter to be free to do Rowan's face.
I don't remember face painters from my childhood. What did we do for fun in the 70's I wonder?
Rowan is now being transformed into a butterfly. She sits still, intently concentrating as the brush moves about her face. This is a serious matter. The bare-faced caterpillar is becoming a colourful butterfly and it wouldn't do to distract the face-painter with sudden movements.
This place is filling up now. I have to retreat with the buggy while
sammywol stands guard. Then through the crowd Rowan comes running, a pink, blue and silver butterfly in her splendour. "I want my lollipop," she says. It's not nectar but it will do, I guess.
I don't remember face painters from my childhood. What did we do for fun in the 70's I wonder?
Rowan is now being transformed into a butterfly. She sits still, intently concentrating as the brush moves about her face. This is a serious matter. The bare-faced caterpillar is becoming a colourful butterfly and it wouldn't do to distract the face-painter with sudden movements.
This place is filling up now. I have to retreat with the buggy while
![[livejournal.com profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/external/lj-userinfo.gif)
There are 2 comments on this entry. (Reply.)