This year, I will even teach my goddaughter how to polka even though that probably means I will be one-two-three-hopping with her in my arms. It's all good!
As I may have mentioned in a previous blog, part of my heritage is Polish (I'm a true American mutt). My maternal great-grandparents were from Poland, and my grandmother spent part of her life living in Europe. My great-grandmother (the only great grandparent still living when I was born) spoke mainly Polish and my grandmother was bilingual. Unfortunately, as is true with most acculturated American families, the native language was not taught to the next generation. Sigh, perhaps one day I will learn more than the few words and the children's folk story I know. But at this street fair, you don't need to speak the language or be Polish to enjoy. And enjoy it I will! I will even bring along my camera to capture some of it to share.
And just remember, Polka Can't Die!
MiĆego dnia, do jutra!
(Have a nice day, see you tomorrow!)
1 comment:
so the polkaholic asks, "are you happy or is that a Kielbasa in your pants?"
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