On the drive past Old Salem Days, a roadside sign made me grin. “Lemonade, Water & Puppies” Three little words that worked like a pocket spell for happiness. I could see it in my head, a shaded stand with cold cups sweating in the heat, tails wagging against ankles, and laughter drifting down the street like music. Sadly, when we went down the road to see, it had vanished like a tiny Brigadoon, not a trace to be seen.

The September sun leaned warm but not punishing, a light breeze tugging now and then. By the time we reached Old Salem Days (that takes place on only one day, by the way), the streets were already crowded, people moving in waves between booths, voices overlapping with the smell of food smoke and snazzy classic cars.

Somewhere along the way we started wondering what to call the folks who live in Salem. The idea that stuck was Salemanders. It feels like it belongs in a friendly folktale, part neighbor and part myth, carrying a spark of fire or a shimmer of magic in the pocket. A name that makes the town feel even more alive. (Unlike Salemite, Salemian or Salemster)

Current mood: playful
Current music: sunshine, rainbows, and lollipops