A Faire to Remember

“Am I Jesus?” Evelyn asked, her cantaloupe-sized melon poking out from a wooden cutout. It was the third hole she’d posed in —the first being a busty Viking woman, followed by a classic head-and-hand stockade.“No, you’re the Mona Lisa,” I told her, mildly surprised at her somewhat close guess despite our lack of religious leanings.Continue reading “A Faire to Remember”