Just don't spiral dance in my face

You know you're in Sebastopol when you set out to purchase a garden hose and end up buying a candle holder.

It was just after noon on a Sunday and my friend and I were driving back from a short hike.  "I have to go get a garden hose," she announced.  "Seriously.  Mine hasn't been working for several months."
That was our intention.  But as we drove through town we got caught in the Whole Foods-farmer's market vortex.  We were just going to run in to Whole Foods.  I wanted something to drink and she wanted a latte and then we were going to go right back to our car.  But somebody was telling us about these really good tamales at the farmer's market, so we made our way across the street.  And actually there was good music playing as well. 
I talked to one of the musicians when they took a break.  He had played in an Irish band at the Celtic festival a few years ago.  I told him how disappointed I had been when the Sebastopol Celtic festival got cancelled.  "Me, too," he replied.  "This is one of my favorite areas to perform in.  Especially with the noodle dancers."
I looked at him.  For the life of me, I couldn't understand what he was referring to.  He got up and demonstrated a sort of willow-y Burning Man-esque type of move. 
I laughed.  "And you only see this in Sebastopol?" 
"I've performed at Celtic festivals all over the U.S. and Europe, and I've never seen that anywhere else."  He sat back down.  "And there are types of music that probably go with the noodle dance.  But not really Irish," he mused.  I had to concur.
After getting tamales (which were indeed very good) we ended up talking to someone at a booth selling locally made vases, candle holders and some objects I couldn't quite identify.  Some people were dancing on the grass area, and one couple spiral danced their way right next to us.  Several times.  I actually found it rather entertaining, but the booth owner was becoming quite annoyed.  Finally he said, "Can you please do your dancing over there?"  He pointed to the group of improv dancers.  Still looking at each other, without breaking eye contact, they semi-apologized and made their way back over to the grass.  "I don't mind the dancing," the merchant mumbled. "Just don't do it in my face."
My friend and I smiled at each other.  She was looking at a very pretty purple stained glass candle holder.  "I thought you needed to go to the hardware store," I reminded her.
"I do."  But she picked up another one.  "These are really nice."
I had a feeling there was going to be no new garden hose today.  I sat down on a bench as she continued looking at candle holders.  My friend Anna Beth has started doing intuitive readings at the market.  She told me that another reader was not so happy about Anna Beth doing readings "on her turf."
"There is kind of a showdown between me and her right now," she had informed me.  "We'll see what happens."  I wondered what other turf wars might be taking place at the farmer's market.
My friend came over to me.  "If I buy one he will give me the second one for half price."  So she bought the purple one for herself and I went home with a dark green one.  Candle holders, 2.  Garden hose, 0.

Favorite line of the week: 
Walking into the teen center behind a mother and her young daughter.  "Honey, do you have your snack?"
"Yes, mom."
"Do you have your water bottle?"
"Yes."
"Do you have your Buddha?"