Our Hearts Belong to a Swamp Dog

This weekend was Settler Days in Deer Park.  There's a huge park in town with many trees, so for a festival on one of the hottest days of the year, this is a beautiful thing.  A few weeks ago N was asked by a fellow worship team member to play in his band at Settler Days.

Denny has a bluegrass band called Denny and the Swamp Dogs.  It took N all of 2 seconds to say, "I'll be your swamp dog" and had his bass ready to go.  Zoe and I lathered up in sunscreen, packed a cooler with water and Gatorade and loaded up our chairs with built-in umbrellas. 

As N was getting set up, Zoe and I scouted out the festival.  We saw people dressed as actual settlers.  I've never felt so sorry for people in all my life.  It was mid-90s and the ladies were in corsets.  I think we should take a moment of silence for that kind of dedication to authenticity. 

Zoe on the other hand was more interested in snow cones and face painting.  She sat totally still and absolutely emotionless as this kind lady painted a ladybug on her cheek.  This picture doesn't adequately convey the perma-smile she wore for the rest of the day.

Then it was time to head to the concert.  As you can see, N dressed the part of a swamp dog with his boots, jeans and cowboy hat.  I think, with the exception of those poor settlers, he was on the only one in long pants.

This smile was captured early on in the concert.  Prior to any sweat dripping down his face from his outfit of choice.

Here's the rest of the band.  All in much cooler, albeit less authentic swamp dog attire.

Thank you Denny for asking N to play with you.  It was a highlight of his bass playing career.  It was also a highlight to see him on that stage playing. 

Next year Zoe and I are getting "I'm with a swamp dog" shirts.